


Beauty and the Beast

by Sharkdiver1980



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 16:38:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7369438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharkdiver1980/pseuds/Sharkdiver1980
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my twist on the timeless tale Beauty and the Beast, Harry Potter Style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! So the first chapter and first half of chapter 2 set the stage for this story - some dialogue was taken directly from the movie (I was too lazy to look it up in the books) and some was made up by me to fit this story. Our story truly begins the second half of chapter 2. Please leave me a review!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](Beauty)  
> 

**_February 2, 1980, Malfoy Manor_ **

 

The Dark Lord sat at the head of the table surrounded by his most loyal of Death Eaters.

“Bring her to me” he sneered, his dark hair falling over one eye.

Two Death Eaters, McNair and Rosier, dragged the slight woman into the room, forcing her to Bow at the Dark Lord’s Feet. Her copper hair fell in ringlets over her shoulders, and she forced herself to look up into his face. He was beautiful except for his unsettling gaze; his eyes were red and filled with hatred.

“Pandora…There is information I desire, and you are going to provide it.” He said silkily, rising from his chair and gliding towards her kneeling form.

“I won’t help you!” she yelled.

He stopped, his eyes briefly falling closed, his movements eerily calm.

“Oh but you will, my dear, you will… _Crucio_!” he screamed as he held out his hand towards her body

She fell to the ground in spasms as the screams tore from her throat. The blood pounded in her ears, and she felt as if every nerve was on fire. She would welcome death like an old friend if it meant an end to this pain…

The Dark Lord released his hand, and her body fell back limply, still twitching from the intense pain he had inflicted.

“Now, let’s try again. Pandora, where are the Deathly Hallows?” He asked, a tone of warning in his voice

 

“I _can’t_ …You mustn’t!” was all she managed to gasp before she felt the intense pain return, and she thought she would go insane from it. She thought about her baby, her little girl, Luna, and latched onto the thought, trying to distance her mind from the feeling of burning alive that her body was presently experiencing. Once again, the pain subsided.

“Pandora, I am growing impatient. The Elder Wand; Tell me now!” The Dark Lord screamed

“It’s an illusion, _all an illusion_ …” she whispered so softly he had to strain to hear her.

“Explain” he commanded

“The wand only gives the illusion of power. No one could ever truly master death. In the belief that they have, is when death will come for them. It’s all an illusion. I _beg you_ , do not seek out the Elder Wand, for those that do, death is always close behind.” She pleaded.

The Dark Lord bent down and plastered a fake smile onto his face, and said in a mocking tone, “Oh, come now, Pandora, you cannot expect me to believe that you are concerned for my safety?”

She was still trying to get her breathing under control, “You need protecting from yourself” she gasped, and attempted to sit up. She caught him off guard when she reached a hand out towards his face, and said, “You could have done great things, Tom Riddle.”

A look of pure rage crossed his face before he pulled back from her hand as if he’d been burnt

“ _Crucio_!” he yelled once more plunging her into a state of unconsciousness.

Finally, he released the curse, and commanded his Death Eaters to return her to Xenophilius Lovegood as a warning. He would acquire the Deathly Hallows, of that he was certain, and Xenophilius was the key.

 

**April 30 th, 1980, Hog’s Head Inn**

“Miss Trelawney, I presume? I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwart’s school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Are you any relation to Cassandra Trelawney by chance?” The headmaster smiled and shook her hand in greeting.

“Please call me Sybil. Cassandra Trelawney was my great-great Grandmother. I was born with the gift of sight, as she was before me.” Sybil replied dreamily, adjusting her overly large spectacles on her face.

The headmaster eyed her skeptically, but continued, “As you know, I have received your application for the post of Divination Professor, and wanted to meet to discuss your qualifications.”

 

“Yes, Headmaster, I confess, I foresaw your request for a meeting. Professor, there is a dark presence in your aura; I fear that you must take great caution if you wish to not suffer a most painful death.”

The headmaster narrowed his eyes, not believing a word of what she was saying. After talking with her for about ten minutes, he was pretty sure that this woman, who claimed to have _the inner eye_ , was not a seer at all; but there was something about her, that made him pity her regardless.

“Yes, well, I’m sorry to have asked you to come out all this way in the rain, such as it was, but I will have other candidates to interview for this position, you understand?” the headmaster told her, trying to let her down easy.

“Of course, Headmaster. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.” Sybil thanked him.

“In that case, I must bid you good evening.” He told her.

As he turned to leave, he was stopped by a sudden gasp behind him as Sybil Trelawney’s eyes glazed over and her mouth went slack.

“ _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...._ "

The hair on the back of Albus Dumbledore’s neck stood on end and a chill went down his spine as he heard the prophecy.

A moment later, Sybil blinked, and looked at him, completely unaware of what had just taken place.

“I’m sorry, Headmaster…was there something else you needed?” she asked in confusion, a look of befuddlement on her face.

“Miss Trelawney, I’d be honored if you would accept the Divination position at Hogwart’s.” The headmaster told her, knowing he would have to place her under Hogwart’s protection in order to keep her safe from the Dark Lord.

“I’d be delighted to accept, Headmaster.” She said graciously, as he explained that they would arrange her accommodations in the castle first thing in the morning.

Neither saw the young man with dark greasy hair walking swiftly out of the Hog’s Head Inn, out into the dark rainy night.

 

**April 30, 1980, Malfoy Manor**

 

Severus Snape fell to his knees in front of the cloaked figure.

“Rise Severus. Speak.” the cloaked figure commanded

“My Lord, there has been a prophecy. Earlier tonight I was trailing Dumbledore as you commanded, and he was meeting with someone in one of the upstairs rooms at the Hog’s Head. The prophecy was about you, My Lord.” Severus said bowing his head.

The cloaked figure walked towards him swiftly and lifted his chin roughly with a pale hand so that he could meet his eyes.

“Legillimens!” The figure hissed as he invaded Severus Snape’s mind to access the prophecy.

After a few moments, he withdrew from his mind and Severus fell to his knees, panting.

“As the seventh month dies…born to those who have thrice defied him…” the cloaked figure repeated to himself.

Severus watched him carefully, as he paced back and forth in front of him.

“She’s very lovely, Severus…Lily, is it?” The cloaked figure stopped pacing and looked at Severus menacingly.

“Please, My Lord, I beg you…destroy the child, but please, not Lily.” Severus begged as the realization of what he had done washed over him. Icy cold fear gripped his heart, knowing that he had just marked Lily Potter for death.

“Very Well, Severus. You have served me well, and as a reward, I shall spare her life so that she may be yours.” The cloaked figure said smoothly

“Thank you, My Lord.” Severus said feeling a rush of relief wash over him. His Lily would be safe. She would never forgive him for allowing harm to come to her family, but he could live with that so long as she was safe.

 

**October 31, 1981, Godric’s Hallow**

 

“Please I’ll do anything, don’t hurt my baby!” Lily sobbed as she attempted to block the cloaked figure who had just took her husband’s life in the downstairs hall only moments before. She had no thought of protecting herself, but she would not let him get to her child.

“Stand aside, this is your last warning. You will not interfere.” He commanded as he attempted to step around her as she clutched his robes desperately trying to stop him.

“She watched in horror as he stopped in front of Harry’s crib, her world slowing to a stop. He would not harm her child. He would _not_.

She watched in slow motion as his wand lifted, pointing at Harry, who’s innocent face showed no fear. Before the curse could leave his lips, she threw herself in front of Harry’s crib, feeling the force of the spell collide with her chest.

It was as if she was still watching everything that was happening, seeing he own crumpled body lying helpless on the floor, as the dark wizard once again raised his wand.

The sound of her own screams echoed in her ears as the whispered curse once again fell from his lips

“ _Avada Kedavra_!”

But this time, there was a blinding flash of light, and the dark wizard was consumed by it. The child fell backwards in his crib, his small chest still lightly rising and falling, as if in sleep, the only evidence of what had taken place was the jagged scar remaining on his forehead .

Lily felt herself fading away; her child would be safe.

 

**October 31, 1981, Godric’s Hallow**

 

Severus Snape burst through the door, his heart beating frantically in his chest.

“No…no, no! Lily!” He screamed as he tore through the house, past the fallen body of his old enemy James Potter.

The Dark Lord had promised he would spare her…

When he reached the top of the stairs, he froze. The door to the nursery was cracked open, and he could see someone sprawled out on the floor, with flaming red hair.

 _Lily_.

“NO!” Severus cried as he rushed through the door and dropped to his knees, pulling her lifeless body against his chest.

“You weren’t supposed to die, you were supposed to be mine…” he sobbed as he cradled her head in his hands.

After what seemed like hours holding her body close, he pulled away from her, standing on shaking legs. He turned and looked at the crib, and he gasped in surprise. A small child sat looking up at him, with Lily’s green eyes, and a scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his forehead. It didn’t make any sense…why would the Dark Lord leave the child alive and kill his parents? Severus looked around the room, and spotted a small antique looking hand mirror on the vanity table. As he turned it over in his hands, he noticed it was cracked. He made up his mind in that moment, that he was going to leave the Dark Lord’s service, and he was going to do what he should have done years ago… he would throw himself on the mercy of Albus Dumbledore. He had to protect Lily’s child. He had failed her so spectacularly, that he vowed he would spend his life keeping the child safe. He put the mirror into the pocket of his robes, knowing it would fetch a high price in knockturn alley. If he needed to run, at least he would have something of value he could sell.

 

**May 18, 1994, Little Hangleton**

“Kill the stag!” the mutant form of Voldemort whispered to Wormtail as they approached Harry Potter and another student who had been transported by their portkey just in time for the dark ritual. Tonight, Lord Voldemort would be resurrected completely. He would no longer live as a parasite as he had since his horcruxes had allowed him to return.

“ _Avada Kedavra_ ” shouted Wormtail as the green jet of light hit the student in the chest and he was thrown to the ground in a lifeless heap.

His wand then swung towards Harry, and forced him to stand upon a tombstone, the scythe of the statue gripping Harry in it’s stony embrace.

“Do it now!” a high pitched voice rasped as a giant cauldron flared to life in front of Harry.

Wormtail dropped the mutant lifeform he had been clutching into the cauldron

“Bone of the father unwillingly given…” Wormtail chanted as a bone from beneath Harry’s feet zoomed towards Wormtail before landing in the cauldron.

“Flesh of the servant willingly sacrificed…” Wormtail said before pulling out a dagger and severing his own hand, his scream echoing in his ears as Harry watched in horror as it too fell into the cauldron.

Wormtail then turned toward him menacingly with the dagger, and Harry struggled desperately to escape. He felt the dagger slice through his forearm, the tip of the dagger shining with his blood

“Blood of the enemy unwillingly taken…” Wormtail rasped as he flicked the blood thrice into the cauldron

“The Dark Lord shall rise again!” he cried, the cauldron erupting into a violent roiling boil as the cauldron itself vanished as it formed a floating black figure. The blackness settling to form the dark silky robes of the pale figure who now stood in front of Harry. He was as pale as death, with crimson eyes and a snake-like face.

He watched in horror as the figure glided smoothly towards Wormtail.

“My wand, Wormtail.” He said smoothly reaching out long bony fingers to wrap around a light colored yew wand.

 

**May 18, 1994, Malfoy Manor**

 

“Severus. I am most displeased that you took so long to return to me. Surely you felt my summons?” The dark lord questioned

Severus Snape bent low at his master’s feet, “My Lord, forgive me. As you know, I have been serving as the Potion’s Master at Hogwart’s for the last several years.”

“I don’t want your excuses!” Voldemort bellowed and glared at the black clad man in front of him.

“My Lord, I can be of use to you. I am close to Albus Dumbledore. I can gather information for you.” He pleaded, pushing down the disgust he felt at having to serve the man who had killed his Lily once more.

Voldemort seemed to contemplate his offer before agreeing smoothly, “You may be right, Severus. I can use you. Dumbledore is close to Potter. If he trusts you, we can use that information to our advantage. “ Voldemort said smoothly.

“Yes, my Lord. I have also brought you a gift to celebrate your return.” Severus said reverently.

Voldemort looked at him suspiciously, as Severus pulled the small antique hand mirror from his robes.

“What is it?” He asked, taking it from Severus.

“It is a charmed mirror that can be used for two way communication. It is cracked, but the shard that has come away can be used as the second mirror. You can give the shard to someone you wish to communicate with long distance, and use the other portion of the mirror to communicate to them. It will allow you more freedom in sending messages rather than just summoning someone to you.” Severus explained.

“How extraordinary.” Voldemort said smoothly as he inspected the mirror.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**March 28, 1998, Malfoy Manor**

“Get Draco” Bellatrix whispered as the snatcher shoved a boy up against the gates of Malfoy manner, who had a most interesting scar…

Belltrix took hold of the boy, whose face appeared to be deformed or swollen. She had made many mistakes already, and could not, no would not risk the Dark lord’s wrath if this turned out to be an imposter. The scar though…

“Draco, is this Potter?” she sneered as she held him tightly against her, her hand yanking back his hair, her wand at his throat.

“I can’t be sure…” Draco said softly, looking at the boy who was familiar yet not at the same time.

Lucius glided over smoothly, his hair, once lustrous now hung limply around his unshaven face.   
“Look closely son…if we were the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, all will be as it was…understand?” Lucius had a look of pleading on his sallow face as the snatcher who had brought the boy stepped forward.

“Now we won’t be forgetting _who_ actually, caught him, I hope Mr. Malfoy.” The snatcher interjected

Lucius felt the rage take over, “You dare to talk to me like that in my own house?” he shouted. His wife, Narcissa clutched his arm gently, pleading with him

“Lucius.” She hissed and pulled him away from their son.

Bellatrix once again stepped forward, grasping Draco’s hand pulling him closer to the boy

“Draco, don’t be shy, come over…Now if this isn’t who we think it is, and we call him, he’ll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure.” She breathed.

Draco stared at the boy in front of him, his face expressionless.

“What’s wrong with his face?” asked Draco

“Yes, what _is_ wrong with his face?” Bellatrix echoed

The snatcher once again stepped forward, “He came to us like that, something he picked up in the forest, I reckon.”

“Right…or perhaps a stinging jinx.” Bellatrix hissed, “Was it you dear?” and she pointed her wand menacingly towards Hermione who was still clutched tightly by the snatchers along with Ron.

“Give me her wand, let’s see what her last spell was” Bellatrix sneered as she moved towards Hermione, when she stopped suddenly seeing something clutched tightly in one of the snatcher’s hands. _The sword of Gryffindor_.

“Where did you get that?” She breathed, disbelief washing over her face

“It was in her bag when we searched her. I reckon its mine now.” The snatcher sneered back.

The curse flew from Bellatrix’s wand before the snatcher could blink, throwing him back against the wall.   
  
“Are you mad?” he cried as he gasped for air, as another of her spells twined around his throat like a thick black rope, choking him.

“Get out!” She snarled at the snatchers as she released him, watching him gasp for breath as the rope vanished.

“Put the boys in the cellar! We’re going to have a little chat _girl to girl_!” Bellatrix cried as she came nose to nose with Hermione.

Ron and Harry were both led away by Narcissa and Wormtail as Bellatrix shoved her wand into Hermione’s throat, and then ran it down her chest threateningly. Hermione’s breath came in short gasps as fear gripped her. Bellatrix Lestrange was unhinged. She had tortured Neville’s parents to insanity, and had killed Sirius Black in front of their eyes only 2 years before.

Hermione shrieked when Bellatrix shoved her to the floor and smiled cruelly before whispering, “ _Crucio_ ”

She thrashed involuntarily, he screams echoing in her ears as she writhed in white hot pain. When Bellatrix finally lifted the curse, Hermione’s throat was raw from screaming, and she could taste the metallic tang of blood in her mouth.

“That sword is supposed to be in my vault at Gringott’s, How did you get it? What else did you take from my vault!” Bellatrix screamed in her face, while Hermione could do nothing but sob. The pain was still running along her nerve endings even after the curse had been lifted.

I didn’t take anything…Please! I didn’t take anything!” Hermione begged.

“Right…” Belltrix whispered before she forced Hermione down once again and began to carve ‘mudblood’ in her arm.

Hermione screamed as the knife cut her again and again, the blood running down her arm in rivulets forming a crimson pool beneath her, until she passed out from the pain.

When she came to, she saw Harry and Ron perched at the top of the stairs, and her breath hitched as they suddenly sprang into action. She saw curses shooting back and forth, until she was roughly hauled to her feet once again by Bellatrix, her wand digging into her throat once more.

“Stop!” Bellatrix cried, “Drop your wands, or she dies.”

Harry and Ron both stopped, seeing Hermione being held by Bellatrix, their wands clattering to the floor. Harry could feel the stinging jinx wear off, and his face shift back to his normal appearance.

“Harry Potter, Shiny and new. Just in time for the Dark Lord.” Bellatrix taunted. She then turned sharply to Lucius, “ _Call him_.”

Lucius strode forward with a sneer and pulled up his sleeve in front of Harry and Ron and was just about to press his hand to his dark mark when a sound above him caught his attention.

His small disobedient house elf was sitting atop of the chandelier above him, loosening the bolt. In the next moment, Lucius dove out of the way as the chandelier crashed down, He jabbed his hand to his mark to call the Dark Lord.

Within moments, a dark swirl of smoke shot into the hall, and as it began to fade, Lord Voldemort glided out of it.

The house elf quickly appeared once again in front of Harry and Ron, clutching their arms and disapparating once more in the blink of an eye, taking the dagger that Bellatrix had hurtled towards them.

The Dark Lord’s scream of rage could be heard though out the manor. He was not pleased, and his death eaters would be punished for their incompetence. They let Potter slip away, _again_.

With a wave of his arm, all of his follows fell to the ground twitching and screaming, feeling the full effects of the cruciatus curse. He heard a sharp intake of breath then, and his eyes flicked to the small girl who was curled up against the wall in the corner. He waved his arm once more, and the curse was lifted.

“What have we here?” he said in a low terrifying whisper as he glided towards Hermione, who was now pressing herself against the wall, clutching her eyes tight. She couldn’t bear to see the pure evil reflected in those crimson eyes.

Bellatrix was the first to recover, and she dropped to her knees in reverence to the Dark Lord

“It’s Potter’s mudblood, my Lord.” She whispered, hoping that the girl’s presence would justify a less harsh punishment. Maybe he wouldn’t kill them after all.

Voldemort studied her shaking form, before he spoke.

“You smell of fear, little mudblood. I can practically taste it. You will be useful to me.” He said menacingly.

At this, Hermione’s Gryffindor courage reared its head. She had witnessed these monsters, especially the one standing before her now destroy too many innocent lives. _Too many_. She wasn’t going to help him, she would die first.

“I won’t tell you anything.” She said defiantly, willing herself to look up and meet his crimson eyes. Her chin trembled only slightly as she held his gaze.

“We’ll see about that.” He spat.

“Put her in the cellar. Potter will no doubt try to save her. When he does, I will destroy him once and for all.” Voldemort commanded as he swept from the room without a backward glance.

Hermione felt herself being hauled to her feet, and she was shoved roughly down the stairs. Once inside, the door was shut and locked. The lighting was dim, and the air was chilly and damp. She limped across the filthy floor, taking in her surroundings. The walls were solid, and there was no way out. She found a pile of straw, probably left over from one of the manors previous prisoners, and she curled up on it trying to warm herself. She felt the hopelessness of the situation wash over her, and she couldn’t stop the flow of tears as they streamed down her cheeks. She should be happy that Harry had escaped, and she was, but she was terrified. She was only Seventeen, and she did not want to die.

Later that night, she stirred when she heard footsteps on the stone stairs leading to the locked door. A spark of hope flared in her chest that it could be Harry, but the spark was quickly extinguished as she saw Wormtail leering at her as he placed a tray containing some bread and water just inside the door.

Before she had even made up her mind to speak, he had already slammed the door, and clicked the lock back into place. She was desperately thirsty, especially after having undergone the cruciatus curse, and the bread seemed like a feast in comparison to the scarce bits of food that they had been able to forage in the Forest of Dean while on the run. Within moments, she finished the bread, and drank all of the water, feeling her eyes become heavy. She had been so thirsty that it hadn’t even crossed her mind that the water could have been spiked with a potion. The only potion that would be undetectable in water was veritaserum.

Her suspicions were confirmed when a few moments later the door swung open again, and Lucius Malfoy was sneering at her as he commanded Fenrir and Dolohov to bring her before the Dark Lord.

Hermione’s eyes widened in fear. She tried to gag herself, and then realized that the potion had already permeated her bloodstream and that it was too late. Whether or not she wanted to, she would answer every question that Voldemort asked.

She was dragged into a large sitting room, with a fire blazing in the hearth. Voldemort sat by the fire in a large wingback chair, absently stroking the head of a large snake.

“Miss Granger. How nice of you to join me.” He said silkily as if she had a choice.

Hermione clenched her jaw. She felt the deep hatred for the man sitting in front of her pool in her gut. This man had killed hundreds of innocent people, including Harry’s Parents.

“Tell me, Miss Granger, What were you and your little friends up to when my Death Eaters captured you?”

“We were hiding.” She answered. She heard snickers from the Death Eaters who had stayed to watch her interrogation, as if it was some form of entertainment. As long as he kept the questions vague enough, she wouldn’t be compelled by the potion to give him a specific answer.

“And how exactly, did you come by the Sword of Gryffindor?” He asked looking at her pointedly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could swear she saw Severus Snape stiffen at the question. She would have been overjoyed to see him, since he had been a member of the order, but he had killed Dumbledore, surely he wouldn’t lift a finger to help her now.

“It was in a frozen pond under the ice in the forest. Harry found it and went in to retrieve it. Ron pulled Harry out before he froze to death, along with the sword.” She answered honestly.

“I wonder how a sword, which should have been safely stowed in a Gringott’s vault could have made its way into an ice covered pool in the Forest…” He said, his eyes sweeping suspiciously over his death eaters indicating his displeasure at their incompetence.

“And what, Pray tell, did you need the Sword of Gryffindor for, Miss Granger?” He asked smoothly.

Hermione felt her stomach drop. She had to answer, and surely he would kill her when he found out.

“To destroy your horcruxes.” She whispered

Audible gasps could be heard around the room, and Hermione clenched her eyes shut against the unforgivable that she was sure was about to be hurled at her.

Instead, she heard him command his Death Eaters to leave the room, which frightened her even more.

She watched in horror as all of his followers slowly backed out of the room, leaving her alone with him.

“How did it feel, Miss Granger?” he asked her in a deadly quiet voice

She couldn’t help the tremble in her voice as she asked, “W..What?”

“Destroying a piece of my soul. How did it feel?” he asked again leaning so close to her that she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.

She swallowed thickly, trying to push back the fear that was practically oozing out of her pores, as she remembered all of the terrible things that horcrux had been whispering to her over the months that she had to wear it.

“It felt… _Good._ ” She said as she squared her shoulders. If he was going to kill her, she was going to tell him exactly what she thought of him first.

A look of surprise crossed his face before he schooled his features back into an unreadable mask.

“Careful, Miss Granger, giving into your hate and taking pleasure from it is the first step into darkness. You and I may not be so different after all.” Voldemort chuckled and she looked away from him in disgust

“I am _nothing_ like you.” She spat venomously.

“Not yet, but you could be.” He said cryptically as he turned his back on her

“I’d rather die.” She said boldly. She would not give in and cower in front of him. Not anymore.

He stilled his movements, and then whispered softly, “And you shall, Miss Granger, but not today.”

She stiffened at his words, and she heard the doors open behind her as he shouted another command at the Death Eater that entered.

“Take her upstairs to the quarters next to mine.”

“My Lord.” She heard a voice say in acknowledgment. It was Narcissa Malfoy.

She felt two hands grasp her upper arms surprisingly gently, and lead her from the room. She didn’t dare speak, and instead wondered what had brought about this sudden change to her living quarters. Maybe Voldemort just wanted to keep her close so that if Harry came for her he’d have to face him.

Before long, she was stopped in front of a set of ornate double doors that led to a separate wing of the manor. Narcissa touched her palm to the door, allowing the wards to let her pass. Only the Dark Lord, and she would reside in this part of the manor. She saw 2 large gilded doors at the end of the hall, which must be the entrance to Voldemort’s rooms, but Narcissa pulled her up short at another set of doors along the wall that were less decorated. Once again, she placed her palm on the door, and the door clicked open allowing her entry.

“These will be your rooms. Bedroom, and the bath is through there.” Narcissa pointed. Whatever it was Hermione had been expecting, it was not a luxury guest suite in Malfoy Manor.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Malfoy, but why am I not being kept in the cellar?” she asked timidly

Narcissa scrunched up her nose at the idea of a mudblood being treated as a guest in her home, “Do not question the Dark Lord’s generosity. I’m sure it can be arranged if you’d prefer the cellar.” she snapped.

“I’m sorry, this will be fine.” she said quietly not wanting to anger the woman further.

Narcissa nodded and left the room without a word.

Hermione took the opportunity to look around the room. It was easily four times as large as her bedroom had been back at her parent’s house, and the walls were a delicate cream color with large double windows; warded of course, to prevent her escape. Gold sconces lined the walls, and the furniture was ornately carved solid Mahogany, and looked very expensive. The bed, also mahogany, was a four poster with a rich dark green satin canopy. She moved across the room, and opened the door that led to the bathroom. Like the bedroom, it was lavishly decorated, with a large sunken tub with Gold taps, as well as a large shower.

Not wanting to waste the opportunity, she stripped off her filthy clothes and ran a hot bath. She honestly couldn’t even remember the last time she had had a proper bath. Most days, while on the run with Harry and Ron, she only had time to cast a quick _scourgify_ on herself. Occassionally, they would find themselves in a place where there was a cool clear stream they could wash themselves in, but more often than not, they had to go without. She slipped into the bath, and the water felt like heaven against her skin. There were expensive looking bottles of shampoo and conditioner beside the tub, and she washed her hair twice just because she could. By the time she stepped out of the tub, she her skin was pink from the thorough scrubbing she had given it. If nothing else, feeling clean helped her to relax, and when she was relaxed, she was better able to think.

She had just wrapped a large fluffy towel around her torso when the door to the bathroom opened, and Narcissa stood there looking at her.

“Good, you’ve bathed. That’s one less thing I have to do. Follow me” she snapped and turned on her heel and walked back into Hermione’s bedroom.

There was an elegant floor length black satin strapless gown laid out on the bed, with a pair of black heels.

“You are to put these on. The Dark Lord has requested that you dine with him this evening.” She said in clipped tones, clearly not enjoying having to play house maid to a mudblood in her own home.

Hermione was about to blurt out ‘why?’ before she looked at the older woman’s face, and decided to keep her questions to herself. She didn’t want to be in his presence any more than necessary, but she wasn’t about to push her luck and give him a reason to prematurely end her life, either, so she put on the dress and stepped into the heels.

“Sit” Narcissa commanded as she picked up a brush, and began to brush Hermione’s hair, albeit a little roughly. Using her wand, she charmed it into a sleek chignon, and used a few light makeup charms to add a hint of eye makeup and red lipstick to Hermione’s lips.

“There. Now you look presentable; even for a mudblood.” Narcissa said shortly as she turned and picked up a box from the bureau. She opened it, and a string of pearls lay inside that probably cost more than anything Hermione had ever owned.

“A gift from the Dark Lord.” She said as she fastened the pearls around Hermione’s neck.

“I can’t accept this.” Hermione said before thinking. Not only did she not want _anything_ from Voldemort, she would never feel comfortable accepting a gift that expensive from anyone.

Narcissa just looked at her and raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrow, daring her to refuse the gift.

“You will wear it, and you will thank him for his generosity.” Narcissa snapped.

“Follow me.” She said as she once again turned on her heel and led Hermione down the hall.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All! This chapter catches me put to what is already posted on FF.net, so from here on out, the chapters will be posted as I write and update over there. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

 

 Hermione followed Narcissa down the hall to the gilded double doors at the end. She felt her courage beginning to waiver when she realized that she would be dining with Voldemort alone, in his private rooms.

“If you value your pathetic excuse for a life, keep that sharp tongue in that pretty little head of yours.” Narcissa warned her before she placed her palm against the doors, and they swung open to allow them to enter. Unlike her room, which was a large guest room with an adjoining bath, Voldemort had an entire Master suite. There was a large parlor, what looked like a study, a small dining area nestled in an alcove with a cathedral ceiling, and another set of doors which she presumed must lead to the master bedroom and bath. He was standing by a large stained glass window in the dining alcove when Narcissa announced their arrival.

“My Lord, I have brought the mudblood.” Narcissa said graciously, almost as if the term was an endearment rather than a slur.

“You may go.”

Hermione watched as Narcissa turned on her heel and left without a word. She stood nervously, trying not to fidget, since he had not as of yet acknowledged her presence or told her to sit. The thought of obeying him disgusted her, yet she wasn’t about to get herself killed over something insignificant like sitting before she was told to do so.

After what seemed like several minutes of awkward silence, he finally turned to face her, and his crimson eyes raked over her form.

“Lovely” he said so quietly she almost had to strain to hear him.

“For a mudblood, you mean?” she said indignantly, unable to reign in her anger.

“Watch your tongue in my presence, or I’ll cut it out.” He hissed

Hermione clenched her jaw and glared instead.

“I see you received my gift. It pleases me to see you wearing it.” He said smoothly as if he hadn’t just threatened her.

Remembering what Narcissa had told her, she ground her teeth and swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat as she forced out the words, “Thank you.”

He looked at her with what she assumed was amusement.

“Much better.” He said coldly.

He approached her, and she tensed. He reached out a pale hand, and ran one of his long fingers over the pearls that sat upon her neck, and she shivered in response. He stepped away from her then, and waved his hand making her chair pull out so she could sit.

“Sit.” He commanded

She looked at him once more, and then slowly sat in the chair which he once again used magic to push in for her. He then moved over to his own seat and sat at the head of the table.

Her crystal goblet suddenly began to fill with red wine, and roasted meats and vegetables appeared on her plate. She remained still and made no move to touch the food or drink.

“Eat” he commanded

“I’m not hungry.” She replied softly. Sitting in his presence was enough to ruin her appetite.

“I said, _Eat_.” He said more forcefully, lifting his wine to his lips.

“And I said, _I’m not hungry_.” Hermione spat

His wand lifted so fast, Hermione didn’t even have a moment to register as she felt the searing white hot pain slam into her. She fell out of her chair and writhed on the floor, feeling as if every bone in her body was shattering. After what felt like an eternity, the curse lifted, and she curled into a ball still twitching from the pain.

“Don’t test my patience, Miss Granger, I can assure you it is not without limits.” He said calmly, still sitting in his seat sipping his wine as if he hadn’t just tortured her on his dining room floor.

“Now, _sit and eat_.” He commanded once more.

Not wanting to ever feel pain like that again, Hermione took a ragged breath and dragged herself up into her seat. Her hands were still trembling as she attempted to lift the wine glass to her lips. If he wanted her dead, she was sure he would just use the killing curse and be done with it rather than slipping poison into her wine.

She felt a tear escape and run down her cheek, and she discreetly brushed it away. She did not want to give this monster the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

“Now that you understand what happens when you disobey me, I wish to know everything that Xenophilius Lovegood told Potter about the Deathly Hallows.” He said as he took a bite of the roast.

Hermione was about to say that she knew nothing about the Hallows, until she remembered that he was a master of legillimancy.

“He only told us what they were. The Elder wand, the resurrection stone, and the cloak of invisibility. He doesn’t know where they are.” Hermione told him honestly. She had never even heard of the Deathly Hallows until Xenophilius told her the story of the three brothers. Ron had only thought it to be a children’s story.

Do not _lie to me_. Xenophilius has been researching the Hallows since before you were born. He must’ve told Potter something…” he said menacingly as he gripped his wand tightly once more

Not wanting to give him another reason to curse her, she cleared her mind, knowing he would invade it to see that she wasn’t lying.

“If he knew anything, he didn’t tell us.” Hermione repeated, instantly feeling him probing her mind. He crashed through her rudimentary occlumency shield as if it were made of paper, and sifted through her memories.

He watched a memory of her when she was just a child, laughing and playing in her back yard with her father, then moving on to another of her being sorted during her first year at Hogwarts, of crying in the bathroom after Ron had told Harry that she was annoying and it was no wonder she didn’t have any friends, Then to her in the library figuring out that it was a Basilisk in the chamber of secrets and that it was moving through the pipes, then to her fourth year arriving at the Yule ball on Viktor Krum’s arm, then fighting alongside Harry in the department of mysteries, then sitting with Xenophilius Lovegood where he told them the story of the three brothers before trying to detain them for the Death Eaters. Instead of pulling back once he witnessed the memory he was looking for, he continued. The memory of Ron and Harry arguing in the tent that resulted in Ron leaving them in the forest of Dean played out in her mind, forcing her to relive it all over again. Finally, she felt his presence slip from her mind, and she was exhausted from the invasion.

“It seems that I’ve underestimated you, Miss Granger. Surely Potter wouldn’t still be alive if not for your intellect. That was quite clever to realize that the Chamber of Secrets held a Basilisk and that it moved through the pipes. No one during my time at Hogwarts had worked that one out.” He said smoothly.

Was he complimenting her now? She wasn’t sure how to respond, so she stayed silent.

“With a mind as keen as yours, it would be a waste to allow it to languish. I’ll grant you use of my private library. There are some research projects of which I may require your assistance.”

“I won’t help you.” Hermione responded quickly.

“We shall see.” He said cryptically as he finished his wine

“Why are you doing this?” she suddenly blurted out, so confused by his treatment of her. She was a mudblood after all, yet here she was being held in a luxury guest room, privately dining with the Dark Lord, and he had even gifted her a set of pearls that were probably priceless, and now, he was going to allow her the use of his library?

“Heritage aside, you are the brightest witch of your age, Miss Granger, only a fool would not covet such a prize. I assure you, that I am no fool.” He said silkily

“I’ll never join you.” She said fiercely and held his gaze.

“We shall see, Miss Granger, we shall see…” he replied, a frightening smile curling in the corners of his mouth.

At this, the door opened once again, and Narcissa entered to bring her back to her room.

He stepped towards her once more, leaning close enough to whisper in her ear

“Goodnight… _Hermione_.”

 

~~{0}~~

 

Sleep was nearly impossible to come by that night, knowing _he_ was sleeping practically in the next room. Finally, she succumbed to sleep from sheer exhaustion.

The next morning, she was awakened by Narcissa entering her room carrying a breakfast tray, which she set down on a small side table, and then she pulled out a dark green dress from the armoire.

“You are eat, shower, and dress. I’ll be back to collect you within the hour.” She said coldly before leaving her once more.

She supposed the Malfoys must’ve really screwed something up if the Voldemort was punishing them by making them serve a mudblood in their own house. For them, that must be the ultimate degradation. Hermione secretly smiled at this. It served them right.

She sat on the small chair by her bed, and ate the breakfast which had been brought to her, without complaint. In all honesty, it was quite good. She had been given fresh fruit, warm croissants, and eggs benedict. For a moment, she almost she forgot she was being held against her will by a psychopath intent on murdering her best friend.

After finishing her breakfast, she showered and brushed her hair, which she pulled back into a single braid. She looked at the dress that Narcissa had pulled out for her, and wrinkled her nose. She hated wearing dresses. Without her wand, she was left with little choice, and she was not about to walk around in just her knickers. That was another thing; all of the underthings she was provided were silk. She was only used to wearing plain no-nonsense white cotton knickers, not these frilly and frankly… _sexy_ …knickers. She hoped this was not Voldemort’s doing, and she shuddered at the thought.

As promised, Narcissa returned and led her from the room towards another room in the same section of the manor that she had not yet seen. The sight that greeted her when the doors opened took Hermione’s breath away. It was a library, with floor to ceiling books, larger than any private library she had ever seen. She must’ve gasped out loud, because she heard Narcissa’s voice behind her

“It truly is impressive, isn’t it.” She said quietly, feeling a rush of pride.

“It’s incredible” Hermione breathed, her eyes already raking over the spines of the books to see which one she would read first.

“I’ll be back to collect you for lunch.” Narcissa said sharply, the spell having worn off, before she once again left Hermione alone.

Hermione though, felt a rush of contentment at the familiar scent of the books around her, before guilt bubbled up in her chest; here she was, essentially in the lap of luxury, surrounded by books she had only ever dreamed of reading, while Harry and Ron were out there somewhere fighting for their lives. It wasn’t as if she didn’t realize she was a prisoner, she knew full well the danger she was in, but there was something to be said about having a roof over your head at night, food in your belly, and the knowledge that you are relatively safe. She would have laughed at the thought of being safe, except for what Voldemort had told her the night before. He _coveted_ her. Surely, if he had plans for her, he would not kill her or allow her to be killed until he got what he wanted. She would make sure that never happened, but he didn’t need to know that.

She shook herself from her thoughts, not wanting to waste the opportunity she was given, since she didn’t know if or when she would get it again, and pulled out an extremely rare potion’s book and curled up to read by the window.

She was so wrapped up in the book, she hadn’t heard him enter. He stood, silently watching her, noting the way her small hand twirled a lock of her hair around her finger, and the way she furrowed her brow when she read something that caught her interest.

“Is the library to your liking?” his smooth voice drifted over, startling her. She placed the book in her lap and sat up stiffly.

“It’ll do.” She said in a snarky tone. As much as she actually did appreciate being allowed this small freedom, she would rather choke than admit that to him.

He surprised her then, when he _laughed_.

“My, you are a feisty one. No need to be coy, Miss Granger, I am perfectly aware how impressive this collection is…it is _mine_ , afterall.” He said silkily

Hermione blushed. The way he emphasized the word ‘mine’ made her shiver.

“May I ask what you are reading?” he asked conversationally, as he leaned against one of the bookshelves watching her with interest.

She chose not to answer, and instead held up the book so he could read the cover.

“Ah, yes. There are some very _inventive_ potions in that book.” He said smirking

“That would be one word for it, I suppose, however, the author’s limited experimentation with external variables undercuts what could have otherwise been brilliant work.” Hermione stated.

The smirk on Voldemort’s lips fell at her words, and he bit back a sneer when he said, “And in your purely academic opinion, Miss Granger, what variables are you suggesting were overlooked?”

Why did he seem angry all of the sudden? She had only stated her opinion of the book, which he seemed to want to discuss.

“I merely meant that if the author had chosen to brew some of the listed potions in a controlled setting and further tested the effects of variables such as cauldron types, temperature sensitivity, or even light sensitivity, they may have discovered much more than what was published. “ she explained.

He looked at her thoughtfully. She truly was brilliant.

“By cauldron types, I assume you mean cast iron, porcelain, copper…etc?” He asked

“Exactly. By changing the type of cauldron the potion is brewed in, or the other factors I mentioned, one could, in theory change the properties of the potion. It would have to be tested, of course, but factors such as these have the potential to change the potency of a potion, or it may result in the creation of an entirely different potion. “ Hermione said with a little too much enthusiasm, forgetting for a moment just who she was talking to.

“What makes you think that the author hadn’t thought of this already?” he said haughtily while gliding towards her and smoothly plucking the book from her hands.

“It seems obvious, doesn’t it? I mean, if they had, they would have included this information in the book. Whoever wrote this is clearly lacking when it comes to research methodology.” She said crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh really?” he stated a little too close for comfort.

“Yes, really. Why do you care what I think of someone’s shoddy research methods anyway?” she asked in confusion.

“Because I wrote it.” He snapped glaring at her clutching the book to his chest.

 _Oh._ No wonder he was upset.

She studied him for a moment then, and said with actual sincerity, “I meant what I said; had you just taken it one step further, it would have been brilliant.” Monster or no, Hermione could not argue that he didn’t have a brilliant mind…scary, but brilliant.

“Yes, well, it’s something I’ll take into consideration then.” He said awkwardly before he handed the book back to her and swiftly left the library with his robes billowing behind him.

Hermione stood staring after him. She had never known that he had ever authored any published works. It made her wonder what else he may have done that the wizarding world was unaware of. She turned the book over in her hands, and saw the author listed as ‘Dom Tilder’. As she stared at it, it became clear that this was another anagram for _Tom Riddle_. He must have used that as his pen name to keep himself anonymous. She scoured the shelves in the library looking for any other books that he may have published under this pen name, and she was beyond shocked to find that there were thirteen books in all, across various subjects that he had written. The most surprising thing of all was that only two of the thirteen books were centered around the dark arts. One of which, she was not all surprised to see, was basically a written instruction manual on how to successfully create a horcrux. Admittedly, no one had more experience in that than he did. With her curiosity piqued, she picked up the book, and read it cover to cover. Maybe this book would give some clues as to how many horcruxes he actually had, and what sort of objects he may have chosen. If she could find something in its pages, maybe she could find a way to get the information to Harry. It was a long shot, but she had to try.

2 hours later, she had placed the book back on the shelf, no closer to discovering his remaining horcruxes than she had been before her capture. Knowing it was him that wrote it, and essentially reading about what he had done to himself willingly not only sickened her, but made her feel incredibly sad. How can someone feel so disconnected from humanity that they could rip their soul apart not once, but more then seven times. Not to mention that one must commit murder in order to make a horcrux. To do it again and again, there could be no remorse, no conscience.

Narcissa entered the library then, and shook her from her thoughts.

“Miss Granger, you will come with me.” She said frostily and abruptly turned forcing Hermione to follow her out of the library.

 


	4. Chapter4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> So glad you guys are liking this so far! Thanks again for the reviews! <3

**~~{0}~~**

 

Hermione was led back to her room, where her lunch tray was waiting for her. She sat once again in the small chair by her bed, and nibbled at the meal she had been given.

“You will be joining the Dark Lord in France for a few days, and will be leaving with him this evening. I suggest you do as your told in his presence, or suffer the consequences.”

Hermione remembered all too well the pain of his cruciatus curse, and resolved that she would do her best to get through the trip in one piece.

“Do not provoke him, Miss Granger, this is not a game.”Narcissa whispered, in hushed tones, with an edge of what could only be concern in her voice.

Hermione nodded, not wanting to shatter the fragile understanding that had just passed between them. This woman may be cold, and she may be a death eater, but she was also a mother.

“I have taken the liberty of packing everything you will require, when you arrive, someone will be there to assist you.”Narcissa told her

“Thank you” Hermione said quietly.

Narcissa nodded, and once again strode form the room.

Not seeing much else to do for the next few hours, Hermione decided to take a nap. It was nearing dinner time when Narcissa came back to wake her. She pulled another dress from the armoire, this one much more formal than the green dress she had been wearing during the day; this dress was a deep navy blue, almost black strapless satin gown that had cut-outs in the torso and a low cut back. Once again, Narcissa helped her dress, and secured the pearls around Hermione’s neck. With a flick of her wand, she swept Hermione’s hair up into a loose bun to show off the graceful curve of her neck.

“The Dark Lord will be pleased.” Narcissa said, admiring her work. Hermione had never dressed as formally as she had been in the last two days, not even the time she attended the yule ball could compare to this.

Narcissa placed a small beaded clutch in Hermione’s hand, and told her that everything she would need was in there. Narcissa had obviously been impressed with Hermione’s extension charm she had used on her small beaded bag, and decided to replicate it.

“An undetectable extension charm, how clever and useful that was.” Narcissa told her.

Hermione followed her out of the room, once again down to Voldemort’s rooms. She was very curious about what the trip to France was for, and hoped that this didn’t have anything to do with hunting her friends. She realized, that aside from Harry Potter, Voldemort’s ambitions for leading the wizard world would surely include increasing his power and forming allies with other powerful wizards in different territories. She hoped that this was purely a diplomatic trip.

As they entered his rooms, Voldemort stood by a large window staring out. He had forgone his usual black silk robes and was impeccably dressed in formal black dress robes. If not for his terrifying visage, she would almost say he looked quite handsome. He turned then, and his eyes moved over her form, and then nodding to Narcissa with his approval.

“Hermione…you look enchanting this evening.” He said smoothly as he glided towards her, and she did her best not to flinch as his pale hand took her arm.

“Th…Thank you.”she stammered, cursing her nervousness.

He smirked at her and disapparated taking her along with him. When the feeling of being squeezed unpleasantly through a small tube subsided, and her feet landed gently on the ground, she squeezed her eyes shut momentarily to get her bearings. When she finally opened her eyes, she gasped when she took in the sight before her.

They were standing on a large hill that looked out over a sprawling vineyard, with a large stone manor that sat back on the property.

“Welcome to Chateau De Lys” he whispered near her ear, as his hand left her arm, and came to rest on the small of her bare back. She shivered at his touch.

“It’s beautiful…” Hermione breathed in awe. She had never visited this part of France, she had only ever been to Paris with her parents when she was a child, but this was breath taking.

“It belonged to my father’s family, and now it belongs to me.” he said simply.

Hermione flinched, knowing he had murdered his father when he was still a student, in order to create a horcrux.

He led her towards the large manor, where a table that was elegantly lit with soft candle light was prepared for them. As they reached the table, a woman hurried over, pouring them both a glass of Cabernet. As she handed Hermione the glass, she took her clutch and bowed to them before leaving them alone.

“The wine was made right here from these very grapes. Try it, it’s excellent.” He told her before raising the glass to his lips and taking a sip.

She picked up her glass and tasted the wine. He was right, it actually was very good.

“The vineyard has provided a substantial income over the years, and I often come here to think.” He said conversationally

Hermione could see why; this place was relatively isolated, and it radiated a calm tranquility that even she couldn’t ignore.

“I have thought about what you said yesterday afternoon, and I have decided to allow you to test your theory.” He said thoughtfully, looking at her over the glass that was perched between his fingers.

Hermione’s eyes widened. He was going to let her do research? Her heart sped up in excitement at the thought, before the chilling realization of exactly what the potions might be used for ran down her spine.

“I won’t do it if it will assist you in harming my friends.” She leveled her gaze at him.

“Believe it or not, _Hermione_ , my interests extend far beyond the likes of Potter.” He retorted looking away from her as if she had actually insulted him.

“What am I to be researching then?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“I have been working on some complex new potions that combine the use of arithmancy, and runic spells, and I wish to have your assistance in testing out some of the external factors we discussed yesterday, seeing as you believe that my methods are…what was it? Shoddy?” he smirked when he saw the faint pink tinge rise to her cheeks in embarrassment.

A moment later, dinner was served, and she was surprised to find that she was not only enjoying the food, but also the conversation. He was able to discuss and debate a variety of topics with her that she found refreshing. No one else in her life had ever cared about the pursuit of knowledge as she had, and as soon as she attempted to discuss something that she had read with Harry or Ron, they would tune her out. Voldemort, however, was able to raise points that hadn’t even crossed her mind. She felt challenged by him, and in a way, it scared her. As dinner was finished, he escorted her inside and walked her through the large manor giving her a tour. Finally, he reached the suite of rooms that would be hers, and he conjured a deep red rose out of thin air and handed it to her. She forced herself not to flinch when he brushed his lips against her cheek before bidding her good evening. The gesture would have been quite romantic had it come from anyone else, but Hermione knew, this man was a monster.

Her rooms made the ones at Malfoy Manor look like a hovel. Her bedroom was easily three times the size, with a large floor to ceiling window that overlooked the rolling hills of the vineyard. The ceilings were cathedral style, and the furniture was ornately carved. The sheets were a deep red silk, as red as the rose he had given her. The bathroom rivaled the prefect’s bathroom at Hogwarts in size, and yet looked much more elegant in its design. She also had her own sitting area, and to her delight, there were a vast amount of books as well as a large fire place.

A moment later, a woman entered the room who introduced herself as Satine. She had already unpacked the items Narcissa had packed for her in the clutch, and she helped Hermione out of the gown she had been wearing and encouraged her to bathe before bed. Hermione took her time luxuriating in the swimming pool sized bath, and when she stepped out, back into the bedroom, Satine had laid out a cream colored satin nightgown. Hermione slipped it over her head, and sighed as she enjoyed the feel of the soft fabric against her skin. She climbed into the bed, which was the most comfortable bed she had ever slept on in her life. Before long, she fell asleep.

_She stood watching helplessly as Harry and Voldemort faced off on the grounds of Howart’s. Curses flew back and forth, a look of hatred on Harry’s face; Voldemort only held a look of fierce determination._

_“Tonight, we finish this, Harry Potter” Voldemort hissed as he lifted his wand_

_Before the curse left Harry’s lips, a jet of green light was already speeding towards his chest from Voldemort’s wand, and Hermione felt her stomach clench and her breathing slow to a stop_

_“NO!” she cried and fell to her knees as she watched the last hope of the wizarding world fall._

Hermione awoke with a start. It had only been a nightmare. Her heart was still racing, and a thin sheen of perspiration had formed on her chest. She refused think on it, and got out of bed to wash her face. It was still early, the sun had not yet risen. She hadn’t even checked to see if her doors were warded last night. She had automatically assumed they would be. She didn’t have her wand, so it wasn’t as if she could curse anyone to make her escape. Still in her satin nightgown, she crossed the room to the doors, and was surprised to find them unlocked. She opened them quietly, slipping through the door, and padded down the hall until she came to a set of French doors that led to a balcony. She stepped out onto the terrace, and rested her arms against the stone railing, breathing in the crisp air.

She was so lost in her thoughts and watching the sunrise, that she jumped when a silky voice came from behind her.

“The view is beautiful.” He whispered by her neck

She clutched her hand over her heart, turning quickly and staring at him like a frightened rabbit. She blushed when she realized she was standing in front of him in nothing but a slinky satin nightgown.

“Yes, the vineyard looks breathtaking in this light.” She answered honestly still trying to calm the frantic beating of her heart

“I wasn’t talking about the vineyard…” he said huskily and he smirked as he noticed her blush deepen.

“I...I should probably go change…I hadn’t expected anyone else to be awake this early.” she said nervously as she moved to slip past him when he caught her arm.

“Dress…practical today. We have much work to do.” She smiled, hoping that ‘practical’ meant pants rather than the dresses Narcissa had made her wear.

He let her go, and took her place against the railing.

 

~~{0}~~

 

Hermione hurried back to her room, mortified that Voldemort had just seen her in a nightgown that left little to the imagination. Damn Narcissa Malfoy and her provocative sleepwear and underthings. Not only had he seen her in that, but he had also made a comment that indicated he liked what he saw. She had spent so much time hating and being terrified of him as a dark wizard, that she forgot that underneath it all, he was still a man. A man who apparently could still appreciate a woman’s form. The thought made her shiver.

As she sifted through the clothes that Narcissa had packed for her, she thought back to what Professor Dumbledore had told them about Voldemort. He had grown up in an orphanage, and he had never experienced love or friendship. The thought made her feel incredibly sad. Would he have been different if he had known love? Hermione wasn’t sure. Back then, he had been Tom Riddle. She couldn’t help but wonder what he had been like when he was younger.

Finally shaking herself from her useless thoughts, she thankfully found a pair of jeans and a blouse that she could work in. She pulled on a camisole under the blouse, and slipped on the jeans and a pair of black flats. She pulled her hair into a messy bun, and headed back to the balcony where she had previously left Voldemort. He was still there, casually drinking a cup of tea sitting at a small table. He nodded to her in greeting, and extended a hand inviting her to sit. 

“You will become acquainted with my laboratory today. I have made a copy of all of my research notes so that you may determine what the next steps should be, and I have also instructed Satine to provide you with any supplies you may need.” He said smoothly, taking another sip of the tea.

Hermione’s eyes lit up with excitement. She couldn’t wait to read his notes and get started. It felt strange on the one hand to be able to set her mind on something other than fighting the man in front of her, and she hoped that the research she would be doing was completely removed from anything to do with her best friend.

Hermione nodded to him, and drank her tea in silence.  
  
When she finished, he stood, indicating that she should follow him. He led her down to his laboratory, which was impeccably clean and organized. There were already several cauldrons of various sizes set up, and a large shelf that held various potion’s ingredients. Along the opposite wall, was a mini library that contained many books on Arithmancy and runes. He had stated the previous night, that the potion’s research he had been working on, incorporated both branches of magic. On the side of the table, she saw several pages of parchment, handwritten in his tidy script.

“While we are here, you will have the freedom to move about the manor, as I’m sure you have gathered by now. Since you are conducting research that will require the use of a wand, I will return yours, however; there are conditions.” He said smoothly

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. He was giving her back her wand?

“You will wear the necklace I have given you, which will be charmed so that only _I_ can remove it. While you are wearing it, you will find it quite impossible to use your wand against me. If you abuse the freedom I am giving you, the consequences will be severe. Understood?”

“Yes” Hermione breathed, wanting to be able to do magic again, even if only a somewhat limited capacity. The last few days without her wand made her feel helpless.

“Good. Also, there is one other condition which you must abide by. You are not to enter the East Tower.” He told her as he twirled his hand and the string of pearls he had gifted her formed around his long fingers.

She turned around and allowed him to fasten the pearls around her neck, and felt a tingle of his magic run over her body as the clasp closed. His fingers lingered on her skin for a few moments longer than neccessary, and she shivered.

“What is in the tower?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her before he snapped at her

“That’s none of your concern!” he roared.

Hermione lowered her eyes to the floor, not wanting to anger him any further after he had agreed to give her more freedom and her wand.

“I have some business to attend to today. Satine can provide you with anything else you require.” He said, his seemingly calm demeanor in place once more, before he turned and glided out of the door.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thank you for the reviews! I am so happy you all are enjoying this!!

 

**~~{0}~~**

 

Hermione spent the better part of the day pouring over Voldemort’s notes on the potions research he had been conducting. He had discovered that by using Arithmancy to predict the best times to gather certain ingredients, as well as carving certain runes into the base of the cauldron, that a potion’s magical properties can be enhanced significantly. Hermione found this theory fascinating, and set to work experimenting with some of the potions he had already tested trying different cauldron types that were also known to magnify certain properties of the potion. She made her own notes in the margins so that it could all be kept together.

She was looking through the books on the shelves when a journal fell to the floor. She froze, immediately thinking of the diary horcrux, and saw that this journal was navy blue, and had the initials ‘PEL’ written on the bottom of the cover. She picked up the book, turning it over in her hands curiously. She had at least 2 hours to wait for the potion she was currently brewing to simmer, so she took the journal over to a nearby desk and began to read it.

 _Restoring the Soul_ was written in bolded script near the top, and Hermione’s eyes widened. Was Voldemort looking for ways to undo the damage he had done with his horcruxes? Was it possible that he had regretted what he had done? She doubted that, but the idea came to her that if she could find a way to mend his soul, he would be vulnerable. The thought should have made her happy, but instead it made her feel guilty. He was her captor after all, and she wanted to be free of him, didn’t she?

She read through the contents of the journal, and found that the spell work it contained was fairly complex. Thus far, the person, _PEL_ , had not been successful when attempting it, since they didn’t have a subject who actually had a torn soul to test it on. Hermione was frustrated when she read the last page that had been written in the journal that spoke of a breakthrough that would be tested the following day. Unfortunately, that was the final entry, and so Hermione was left wondering what the breakthrough had been, and who _PEL_ could possibly be.

Putting the journal back on the shelf where she found it with a sigh, Hermione went over to check on the potions. The three identical batches she had simmering only differed by the type of cauldrons she had brewed them in. She could already see the color of the one she brewed in the copper cauldron was a much deeper shade of red than the other two, and the one she had brewed in the pewter cauldron was emitting tendrils of smoke not unlike the amortentia potion. She made her notes in the margins, and bottled a sample of each potion so that it could later be tested to determine the changes in effects.

After she cleaned up her workstation, Satine announced that her lunch was ready on the terrace. Hermione hadn’t realized how hungry she was, but at the mention of lunch, her stomach began to growl. She followed Satine out to the terrace, and took a breath of the fresh air. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky. When she sat at the table, Satine brought her a note and her wand. She felt the familiar tingle of magic as she gripped the smooth handle of the vine wood. She opened the note, and immediately recognized Voldemort’s tidy script.

 

_Hermione,_

_I have been detained, and will not be returning until later this evening. I have instructed Satine to return your wand as discussed. There are consequences for disobedience, which I am sure you recall with perfect clarity._

_~Lord Voldemort_

 

Of course he would have to throw in a threat to remind her of just who was in charge. She had already tried to remove the necklace, to no avail. She ate her lunch, and absently wondered what Harry and Ron were doing at that moment, and if they were trying to rescue her, or not. The thought that they would just leave her to her fate made her heart clench, but even she had to admit, that Harry was far too important to risk himself by saving her. She felt so cut off from what was happening, and as much as it was in some ways a relief, the not knowing was also terrible.

After she finished her lunch, she decided to take a walk around the Manor and do some more exploring. He had told her after all, that she had the freedom to do so, only the East tower was off limits. Hermione stopped in her tracks. What could he be hiding in the tower? The thought made Hermione’s heart speed up; what if it was one of his horcruxes?

After a moment, she realized that even if one of his horcruxes was up there, Hermione did not have the sword of Gryffindor, nor a Basilisk fang at her disposal, so there was very little she could do about it. Still, her curiosity ate away at her. If she wanted to satisfy her curiosity, this was her best chance. He was away, and would most likely not be back for a while. She walked through the halls casually, not wanting to look suspicious. She saw Satine was busy chatting with one of the grounds keepers, so she crept past and made her way towards the tower. When she arrived at the door leading up to the tower, she wasn’t surprised to find it was heavily warded. Now that she had her wand back, she would be able to break the wards. The wards were complex, no doubt placed there by Voldemort himself. Still, after some time, she was able to break them. She opened the door quietly and slipped through, climbing the spiral staircase that led up to a small locked door. Surprisingly, this door was unwarded, and only locked from the outside. She raised her wand and whispered _Alohomora_ , and heard the satisfying click of the lock as it opened. She pulled back the door slowly, not sure if the room contained anything dangerous. Voldemort was the Dark Lord after all, so the prospect of this room containing cursed objects, was highly likely. To her surprise, there was not much in the room at all. There was a tatty trunk in the far corner of the room, which Hermione once again opened with a basic spell. She opened the lid, and inside, there were things she had recognized from Hogwarts. A small gold pin that said ‘Head Boy’ still gleamed as Hermione lifted it to take a closer look. She had always imagined that she would one day have the very same pin to wear on her school robes that pronounced her as Head Girl. A photograph with a singed edge caught her eye. It was an older photo, in sepia tones. She recognized the portly man in the center as her most recent Potion’s Professor, Horace Slughorn, only he was much younger than he was now, and had a mustache that made him look not unlike a walrus. Students were clustered around him smiling brightly, and there was an inscription at the bottom that said “Slug Club Christmas Gala, 1944”. Hermione looked at all of the students, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the boy in the photograph wearing the unmistakable shiny Head Boy pin…Tom Riddle. Hermione had never known what he had looked like in his youth, but she felt her cheeks flame when she realized that she thought he was incredibly handsome. It was hard to even rationalize that this boy was the same man who currently held her captive, only now he looked much more terrifying. She continued to dig though the trunk, and found a picture of his mother, Merope Gaunt. She was not an attractive woman, despite how attractive her son had been, surely he must’ve got his good looks from his father. When the thought crossed Hermione’s mind, she shivered when she realized that he had murdered his own father. She set the photo aside and found a letter. Curious, she opened it and began to read:

 

_Tom,_

_I was truly shocked to receive your letter. I had no idea that Merope had conceived a son. I had heard that she passed away some time ago, but I could not find it in myself to grieve her passing. Many years ago, I met her in a pub, and after accepting her offer of a drink, I found that I was bewitched by her. I honestly can’t explain it, only that my thoughts only centered around her inexplicably, and that I needed her desperately. I truly didn’t even really know her. A week later we were married. Then, one day, it was as if a spell was broken, and she was once again just a perfect stranger to me. I know it sounds mad, but I think she was a witch…I left her as quickly as I married her, and immediately had the marriage dissolved. She thankfully stayed away, and I hadn’t ever heard from her again. It wasn’t until almost a year later that I learned of her death. In truth, at the news, I only felt relief._

_You must understand that I have a wife, and a family who know nothing of my past indiscretion with your mother, and I would very much prefer to keep it that way. Please do not attempt to contact me again._

_~Tom Riddle Sr._

 

Hermione felt her heart clench. He had tried to contact his father, and his father cruelly denied him. From the sounds of his father’s explanation, it sounded as if Merope Gaunt had used a love potion on the unsuspecting muggle, and eventually, it had worn off.

“So this is how my generosity is repaid….” His voice came from behind her in a deadly whisper.

Hermione’s eyes widened and she was spun around to face him, his long fingers tightening their grip on her wrists until the letter fell from her grasp and fluttered to the floor.

“Please…I’m sorry…I…” she stammered trying to pull out of his vice like grip

“I should kill you for your impertinence!” he roared, releasing one of her wrists and easily disarming her with a flick of his hand.

“Please…” she begged, tears streaming down her cheeks as fear swept through her as she felt his magic pulsating wildly around him.

He pulled her to him roughly and yanked the strand of pearls from her neck, before apparating them directly to her room. He shoved her away from him roughly onto the bed, and she scrambled back towards the headboard in fright, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible.

He raised his wand to her angrily, his eyes flashing a deep crimson red. She sobbed and curled into a ball on the bed, waiting for his curse to hit her.

Instead, he shifted his wand to a table that held a vase of fresh cut roses and blasted it to pieces, then without a word he strode from the room, slamming the door loudly behind him. She ran to the door, and found it was locked. The weight of her situation crashed over her with full force. She was a prisoner, and had been since day one. He had only ever given her the illusion of freedom, and that too, had been taken away. She crawled back onto the bed, clutching the pillow to her chest, sobbing, until she fell into an exhausted sleep.

Sometime later, she couldn’t even be sure what time it was, she heard the door unnlock, and Satine entered the room. She brought a tray of food, setting it down on a small dining table, and gingerly stepped around the broken glass and bits of wood that were still lying scattered on the floor from Voldemort’s violent display, before leaving the room. Hermione stood and made her way over to the tray. Her stomach churned at the thought of food, her appetite having left her. She needed to find a way to escape; she was once again without a wand, and the wards around the property prevented her from being able to apparate, but if there was some way that she could leave on foot without magic, maybe even making it to a muggle village, it would be a start. With that thought in mind, Hermione ran to the window. The drop wasn’t quite that far, and just beyond the manor she could see the edge of the forest. Hermione yanked the sheets from her bed and tied them together as best she could and secured one end to the leg of the large bed. With a last deep breath, she tossed the length of sheets out of the window, and climbed down before she could talk herself out of it. Her heart was beating frantically as her feet hit the ground, and she took off running as fast as she could towards the forest. By the time she reached the trees, her lungs felt as if they would explode, and her legs were burning from exhaustion. She didn’t dare look back, but kept moving forward. She had no idea how thick the forest was, and how far away from any other villages she was, but she didn’t care; as long as she was away from him, she was free.

A few hours later, the sky began to darken, and she could hear sounds moving around her in the trees. On instinct she reached for her wand, and then a little bubble of panic rose in her when she remembered she no longer had it. She was alone in the dark forest with no means of protecting herself. She backed up against the solid trunk of a tree, her breath leaving her in short gasps as she looked around wildly with wide eyes to see what it was the was stalking her. A clacking sound above her forced her to tilt her head slowly upwards only to see an Acromantula lowering itself towards her hungrily. Hermione let out a startled yelp and sprinted forward away from it only to stop short as several more approached her from the front. Her breath caught in her chest as they began to move towards her, their sharp fangs clacking together, ready to suck her dry. She grabbed a large tree branch and held it out in front of her as a last desperate attempt to defend herself. Just as one of them sprang at her, she slashed at it with the tree branch, and suddenly a bright light enveloped her from behind, and she could see some of the spiders being flung backwards into the forest. She turned sharply, and Voldemort stood behind her, shooting spells in every direction to ward off the hungry arachnids. He was still too far from her to reach. And she shrieked as one of the Acromantulas landed on her back pinning her to the ground. She braced herself for the stabbing pain that it’s fangs were sure to inflict, only before it could sink them into her, it was blown off of her by another jet of green light. She felt a hand grasp her roughly by the back of her neck and haul her to her feet before felt the squeezing pop of apparition.

When she opened her eyes, she was still breathing heavily, and the adrenaline was still coursing through her veins.

“Did you honestly believe I would let you escape?” he whispered dangerously.

She flinched. If he hadn’t killed her or cursed her before, he surely would now.

“Fleeing straight into an Acromantula’s nest, no less. You really must have a death wish, Miss Granger.” He snapped as he stepped away from her, and she noticed he was limping.

“You’re injured…”she said quietly, looking at him with wide eyes.

He waved his hand dismissively, taking a seat in the large wingback chair by the fire place.

“You saved my life…why?” she asked, baffled as to why he would risk saving her and causing himself to get injured in the process.

“I told you, Miss Granger, you are valuable to me.” He said, irritation lacing his voice.

Hermione looked at him, and her eyes dropped to his leg, where she could see it was bleeding quite a bit. Without thinking, she rushed forward and dropped to her knees in front of him to get a better look at it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he barked at her, sitting up stiffly

She looked up at him, meeting his crimson eyes, and kept her voice even as she said, “I’m helping you.”

He grit his teeth, and snarled at her, “I don’t need the help of a _mudblood!_ ”

Hermione bristled, and then her anger flared.

“Call me what you like, but your leg will become infected if you try to heal it without cleaning it first. I suggest you let me help you.” She snapped, placing her hands on her hips and glaring down at him.

He was shocked into silence by her unexpected outburst, so he just narrowed his eyes at her, but didn’t protest as she knelt back down and pulled the bloody fabric from his pants away from the deep gash in his calf.

“If you want to make yourself useful, you could conjure some hot water, a cloth, and some Dittany.” she snapped falling back into her old habit

She heard him scoff at her bossy tone, then saw that a bowl of hot water, a cloth, and a bottle of Dittany materialized beside her. She moved her position to sit with her legs folded on the floor at his feet, lifting his leg to rest in her lap. She chanced a glance up at him, but he otherwise remained silent.

She picked up the cloth and soaked it in the hot water before squeezing it out and gently dabbing it against the skin of his leg to clear away the blood. As soon as she was satisfied that it was sufficiently clean, she picked up the bottle of dittany and pulled out the dropper before meeting his eyes once more.

“This will sting a bit.” She warned.

He gave her a look that could only be amusement, and the corner of his lips turned up in a smirk.

“I assure you, Miss Granger, I can handle it.” He said smoothly.

She bit her lip at how silly her statement was; he had ripped his soul apart seven times, of course he wouldn’t be bothered by a small sting. She dropped a few drops of dittany over the wound, and watched it hiss as the skin began to knit itself back together seamlessly. She set the bottle back down and scooted back from him, releasing his leg once more.

“There. Good as new.” She said standing and wringing her hands together nervously.

He continued to gaze at her from his seat, causing her to shift nervously from foot to foot.

“Thank you.” He finally said, and her eyes widened in shock.

“I don’t make it a habit of thanking people, so don’t get used to it.” He snapped.

She nodded and tried to bite back the smirk that was forming on her lips.

“If you promise not to try anything stupid like that again, I’ll consider giving you your wand back, with the same conditions as before, of course.”

She inhaled sharply at his words, and readily agreed.

“Very well. You are dismissed.” He said as he waved his hand towards her in a shooing motion and looked away from her towards the fire that was burning in the hearth.

Not needing to be told twice, she walked out the door quickly, and made her way back to her room. Satine had already come by with her dinner, as the tray still sat on the small table. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she saw the food. She inhaled everything on her plate, and then made her way to the bathroom. She was covered in dirt from head to toe, and she noticed she had quite a bit of his blood on her jeans from when she had cleaned his wound. She peeled off her clothes, and climbed into the warm soothing water. As she lay there, she thought back to the items she had found in the tower. _Why was he so desperate to keep these things hidden?_ She thought about it, and it all seemed to fall into place in her mind; these items were the last evidence that he had once been human. _If he hadn’t wanted anyone to ever find them, why not just destroy them_? The realization hit her suddenly, almost taking her breath away; he hadn’t destroyed them because he didn’t _want_ to…which meant that maybe, somewhere deep within him, he felt remorse for the monster he had allowed himself to become. It wasn’t surprising then, that he would do everything in his power to frighten her, making sure that she was once again reminded of the monster that he truly was.

When the water began to grow cold, she finally pulled herself from the bath. When she stepped into her bedroom, she noticed that there were still bits of broken glass and wood, as well as wilted roses scattered on her bedroom floor from his earlier outburst. Tired of looking at the mess, she got down on her hands and knees and picked up all the shards of broken glass as well as the splintered wood, and set them aside in a pile. Maybe he could repair it later, if he cared enough about the vase. As she continued to think about his reaction to her disobedience, she was surprised. He had cast the _cruciatus_ on her for not wanting to eat with him less than a week ago, yet for directly disobeying his order, he blew up a vase. Also, he could have _obliviated_ her so that she wouldn’t have any memory of what she had seen in the tower, but he hadn’t done that either. She couldn’t help but wonder why.

An hour or so later, Satine came back to remove her dinner tray. Growing bored and not feeling at all tired, Hermione plucked a book from the bookshelf and began to read. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep in the chair, with the book resting against her chest. It was at this time, that Voldemort came to her room. He opened the door, and was surprised to see her curled up in an armchair with a book, sound asleep. His eyes swept across the room, and he noted that she had made an attempt to clean up the mess he had made of the small side table and vase. With a flick of his wrist, the table and vase repaired themselves silently, the wilted roses once again becoming full and sliding back into place as if nothing had ever happened. He moved across the room to where she slept, and watched her for a moment. He felt a tightness in his chest as he watched her, a feeling that was entirely foreign to him, and he reached his long pale fingers out to brush a tendril of her wild hair behind her ear. This girl had totally perplexed him and gotten under his skin in a way no one else had ever managed to. She infuriated him, and made him want to please her all at once, but the thing that confused him the most was why he had hesitated to curse her for her earlier disobedience. He was so ready to cast the cruciatus curse on her, the words already forming on his lips, when the image of her writhing on his dining room floor with tears running down her cheeks made him stop. He didn’t want to see her in that kind of pain ever again, and he was at a loss to explain why. He only knew, that seeing her in pain made his chest feel tight, and it was a feeling he didn’t particularly enjoy.

He conjured the strand of pearls that he had repaired after his fit of anger, and gently placed them around her neck once more without waking her. He then plucked the book from her chest and set it on the table, and then wandlessly levitated her sleeping form from the chair she had been curled up in to her bed. With one last look at her sleeping form, he silently left the room.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your reviews! I am so glad you are enjoying this! xo

**~~{0}~~**

Hermione woke the next morning a bit confused. She hadn't remembered making it to the bed the previous night, nor could she explain why the small side table and vase full of roses were suddenly back to their former state. She reached up absently, and gasped in shock when she felt the weight of the pearls against her neck. She supposed it was possible that Satine could have repaired the table and vase while she slept, and that maybe Voldemort had repaired the pearls and instructed Satine to put them on her. Maybe she had been so tired last night, and still half asleep that she had crawled into bed herself, and just didn't remember it.

A few moments later, Satine arrived with a small folded piece of parchment. She handed it to Hermione and immediately began rustling through Hermione's armoire to choose an outfit for her. Hermione turned the letter over in her hands, and her curiosity got the better of her, so she opened it and began to read.

_Miss Granger,_

_You will continue your research today. Once you have made yourself presentable, Satine will escort you to the terrace, where you will join me for breakfast._

_~Lord Voldemort_

After taking a quick shower, she pulled on the pants and top that Satine had laid out for her. She followed Satine out of her room, down to the familiar terrace where she had watched the sunrise the day before. She once again thought about his reaction to seeing her in the satin nightgown, and she felt her cheeks grow warm.

He was already seated when she arrived, staring out at the vineyard below. Without even looking at her, he gestured with his hand to the opposite chair, indicating that she should sit.

"That will be all, Satine." He said smoothly.

Hermione watched her give a small curtsy, and leave without a word. She then turned her attention back to him, and felt a ball of anxiety curl in her stomach. Was he still angry with her for trying to run away?

"I will be joining you in the lab today. I wish to see your progress." He said picking up his tea and taking a sip.

Hermione nodded, not quite sure if she was supposed to answer him, and nibbled on a croissant.

After finishing breakfast, he led her down to his laboratory, where he moved to the table to inspect her notes.

"I see you've already made quite a bit of progress." He commented as he scanned the pages of notes.

"Yes, the results were quite surprising in some cases." Hermione answered.

"Indeed." He said absently

Hermione began to set up the cauldrons to brew a dreamless sleep potion that she would be testing, when he stopped her.

"You will be brewing a different potion today." He said cryptically, as he grasped her elbow.

"What potion would that be?" she asked nervously, once again saying a silent prayer that it had nothing to do with Harry.

"It doesn't have a name, since it's still strictly experimental, however, it is important to me that you work on it."

Hermione felt a tendril of fear pool in her stomach. What if it was something he was planning to use on her friends? Something terrible?

"I need to know what it does." Hermione said flatly.

He pressed his lips together in a thin line, and seemed to consider her request, and then he finally spoke.

"Theoretically, this potion should have the ability to heal almost anything, although it has not yet proven to be strong enough."

Hermione absorbed what he was telling her, and her mind drifted back to the journal she had found the last time she had been working in his lab.

"Strong enough for what?" she said wanting to see his reaction.

He looked up at her sharply, and snapped, "That's none of your concern."

"Who is P.E.L?" she asked

"P.E.L?" he echoed, not sure what she was referring to

"Yes, P.E.L…In the laboratory the other day, I was searching through the books on the shelf and I found a most peculiar journal that had the initials P.E.L. I was merely curious as to who they are." Hermione explained.

He had completely forgotten that the journal was in there amongst his research tomes.

"Why do you wish to know? Am I to assume that you read the contents of that journal?" he asked her.

She blushed, of course she'd read it.

"Yes. Isn't that what this is about?" She said while gesturing around the laboratory. It made sense now that he wanted her to continue where P.E.L had left off. That was why she was valuable to him.

"Before I tell you that, I am curious as to what you thought of it." He asked her, his interest piqued.

Hermione was surprised he wanted to discuss it with her, she had assumed the state of his soul was a rather sore subject, considering he knew she had been hunting his horcruxes when she was captured.

"The spell work seems fairly complex, and obviously the research was incomplete. I wonder though if they had thought of carving runes in to the cauldron during the brewing stages before ingesting the potion and casting the spells?"

Voldemort's eyes widened. The thought hadn't crossed his mind, but it could be the missing piece of the puzzle.

"That is a very interesting theory I should like to test. Unfortunately, the author never completed her findings because she was killed when one of the spells backfired on her. P.E.L. is Pandora Emmeline Lovegood."

"Luna's mother…"Hermione breathed. Luna had told her a few years ago that her mother had died when Luna was only nine due to a backfired spell.

"I had no idea she had been working on such things." Hermione said in genuine surprise.

"Pandora and I were in school together many years ago. She was a Ravenclaw. She found out that I had made a horcrux while I was still in school. For obvious reasons, I had never told anyone, but somehow, when she looked at me, she knew. She fancied herself in love with me, and for years, even after her arranged marriage to Xenophilius, she tried desperately to find a way to reverse what I had done. Eventually, she was killed." He told her flatly.

The way he so casually talked about Pandora's feelings, as if they meant nothing at all to him made Hermione shiver. He may not have returned her feelings, but there was a certain coldness in his voice when he said it. Maybe he truly wasn't capable of feeling love or affection.

"Why did you make so many?" Hermione asked softly, not sure if he would even answer her.

"That is not a subject I wish to discuss." He said warningly, and she nodded and waited for his further instruction.

"Based on your research notes, I would like for you to attempt brewing this potion using the quartz cauldron. I trust you are sufficiently able to properly carve the rune? He asked sardonically, and she rolled her eyes.

"I believe I can manage."

"Good. The potion will need to simmer for twenty four hours before testing can begin." He said smoothly.

She took the proffered parchment from his hands that had the brewing instructions written out in his tidy script.

"I have some things to attend to, but will return to check later this afternoon."

He then stopped, seemingly unsure of himself, and looked at her questioningly.

She had never seen him appear quite so out of sorts, and she had to bite back a smile at this very human side to him.

"Miss Granger… _Hermione_ …would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner this evening?" he suddenly asked her, looking slightly uncomfortable.

She had assumed that she never had much of a choice in the matter, but at this moment, he was asking her.

"Are you asking me, or telling me?" she looked at him and smirked at his discomfort.

"I am _asking_ you." He said quietly before he looked away from her again.

"In that case, Yes, I'll have dinner with you." She answered.

He schooled his expression into a blank mask once again and just said, "Dinner is at 7 sharp. Don't be late." Before he turned on his heel and left without a backward glance.

~~{0}~~

That night, she took her time getting ready for dinner, continually asking herself why she cared about looking nice for him.

This time, wanting to feel a bit like her old self, she chose a gown in a deep red that reminded her of her Gryffindor house color. She applied the same shade of lipstick to her lips, and Satine pulled her hair into an elegant updo to accentuate her neck, where the pearls he had given her still rested against her collarbone. Just as she slipped her feet into the matching red heels, Satine entered her room to escort her to dinner.

When she reached the ballroom she took in the sight before her; the walls were made up of bookshelves from the floor to the ceiling, with an elegant crystal chandelier over the center of the floor. A lone table was set for the two of them off to one side.

Hermione gasped at the grandness of the room, and how lovely it looked covered in books. She had always dreamed of living in a place that was literally decorated in books. The room smelled of roses, candlewax, and old parchment, and the effect was heady. Voldemort stood awaiting her, wearing elegant black dress robes, a red rose clutched between his fingers. He took in the sight of her, and lifted the rose and placed it in her hair.

"Beautiful" he whispered as he held out his arm to her.

She blushed fiercely at his compliment, and took his arm, "Thank you…" she said shyly, not used to receiving such compliments. She felt a tad conflicted over just who it was that was complimenting her.

He escorted her to the table, and pulled out her chair for her, before taking his own seat. Her crystal goblet filled with red wine, and she lifted the glass to her lips.

"How is the potion coming along?" he asked conversationally

"Rather well, actually. I brewed three batches that should all be ready to test simultaneously. One in the quartz cauldron as discussed, one in a solid gold cauldron, and one in an iron cauldron. Based on the different runes associated with healing, I chose _Wan_ as the rune to test because it represents the power of the place where all existence begins." She told him excitedly.

"I am looking forward to reading your notes." He said honestly, studying her over the rim of his glass.

She was curious about what he had been up to all day, but she was afraid to ask. What if it concerned Harry?

"What are you thinking about so intensely?" he asked shaking her from her thoughts.

"I was merely curious as to where you went today." She said holding her breath for a heartbeat, sure he would snap at her and tell her it was none of her business.

"I had a meeting with the French Minister of Magic." He replied nonplussed.

"Oh." Hermione said, not having expected that he would actually answer her.

"Aren't you at all curious what was discussed?" he smirked at her

"Well of course I am, but I didn't want to press my luck." She said biting back a smile.

"It was mostly just to discuss plans for legislation." He said waving off the topic.

_Legislation? Was he working on making laws that would impact muggleborns?_

"What sort of legislation?" she asked quietly, feeling a sense of dread creep down her spine.

He looked at her sharply, knowing what she was thinking.

"Laws that will be passed in order to protect the integrity of pureblood-" he started before she cut him off.

"Laws to segregate and exterminate _mudbloods_ , you mean." She spat

He stood quickly from his chair with a growl feeling his anger rise at her disrespectful tone.

"You will watch your tone, Miss Granger, or I will-"

"You will what? Torture me? Kill me? I can't stop you if that's what you want. Why did you ask me to have dinner with you, then? Have you forgotten that I am one of the mudbloods that disgusts you so?" She shot back angrily, standing as well. She was tired of his games, and tired of this blood purity argument that was beyond irrational. How could someone so brilliant in every other capacity believe that nonsense?

"I have not forgotten. You are the exception"

"That's just it though, I'm actually not. I take education seriously, and I work very hard to do as well as I have. I'm no different than any other muggleborn witch. God, for someone so intelligent, it boggles my mind that you actually bought into this pureblood supremacy." She argued

Had it been anyone else who talked to him like that, they would have been dead, or cursed by now. A week ago, she would have been as well. For some reason he couldn't explain, this witch had gotten under his skin, and he actually wanted to hear what she had to say. She challenged him in a way that no one ever had.

"its complicated." He said quietly, staring intently at his wine glass, once again taking his seat and rubbing his hand over his face in a manner that was very much human.

"Then explain it to me." She asked, taking her seat once more. It was the million dollar question, the one that she'd always wanted the answer to.

"In order to obtain power, you need support. Support was easier to gain amongst those of pureblood heritage, since they traditionally held higher positions in politics. By embracing their already rampant ideologies, I was able to secure the support that would ultimately end in my successful rise to power." He explained.

"So what you're saying is that this whole thing – all of this projected hatred of muggleborns is entirely political?" She asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion

"Well, I've never had any reason to doubt it before." He said simply

"Before?" she asked wanting to be sure she understood him

"Every muggle that I have ever known has been pathetic. My father, Mrs. Cole…disgusting, the lot of them. You are the first that has made me question it." He said quietly looking away from her.

"What is so special about me?" she asked, suddenly feeling warmth flare in her chest and her heart beating more rapidly.

"You're brilliant, kind, brave, and selfless…you would give your own life to save your friends."

"Of course I would." She answered honestly, "That's what friends do."

"More like that's what Gryffindors do." He said smoothly, his lips quirking up in a smile.

"I won't argue that." She said taking a sip of her wine.

"What was it like for you? At Hogwarts, I mean?" She asked hesitantly, unsure if he would shut down that line of questioning after his outburst the previous day.

"It was the only place that ever felt like home." He said quietly taking a sip of his wine.

She nodded, and understood the feeling. She had spent 6 years of her life there up until this past year.

"You had top marks in all of your classes" she said, surprising him that she knew that.

"Yes, education was always important to me." He said smoothly, watching her over his wine glass.

"Had we been in school together at the same time, you would have had some competition." She smirked.

A smile played at the corner of his lips at her presumption, "Miss Granger, you have already proven to be quite the challenge." He said cryptically.

"Oh? How so?" she asked tilting her head and giving him a curious look.

Before he could answer, the first few notes of the Tango began to permeate the room as if coming from the very walls.

"Will you dance with me, Hermione?" he said standing and bowing to her formally, holding out his hand to her.

She stood nervously, placing her small hand in his, and she was surprised by how warm it was. She had never learned how to dance, but she had always loved to watch people dance the Tango. There were so many things about this man she never before would have associated with him, but just the past week that she spent in his company, things had become so much more complex than simply 'good' or 'evil'. Her heart was beating faster now as he led her to the dance floor, and pulled her to him, his right hand falling to the small of her back, and his left poised to clasp hers. He led her around the dance floor gracefully, and she took her cues from him feeling the music flow through her like a lover's caress. She felt his crimson gaze on her intensely making her heart beat frantically in her chest like a hummingbird, though surprisingly, it wasn't from fear. As the song came to an end, he held her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her hand softly and bid her goodnight.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the awesome comments! I am so happy you are all still reading! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope you guys like it as much as I do! xo

**~~{0}~~**

 

The next morning, Hermione woke feeling conflicted, more so then she cared to admit. She climbed out of bed and stretched, then took a long soak in the bath. No matter how much she tried to ignore it, there was a seed that had been planted that had been growing steadily since that first morning on his terrace that she could no longer ignore; doubt. There were things she had always known that she could have identified as fact; for instance she had known, unequivocally, since her first year at Hogwarts when she had befriended the boy who lived, that Lord Voldemort was the epitome of evil. She knew unquestioningly that he was her enemy. She had known that her loyalty to Harry, and the Order would be unwavering. However, She now faced the realization that there was so much more to the man she had counted as her enemy, and that the world couldn’t simply be painted in black and white; there was a whole lot of gray in there too. Of course Voldemort had done unspeakable things, that was never something she questioned, but his motivation was not quite as simple as she had previously believed, and it seemed, that he was actively trying to undo some of that damage by attempting to restore his soul. All of these thoughts swirled through her turbulent mind, and she tried to reduce it all down to one simple question; could she still fight alongside Harry and watch as he attempted to kill the man she had only recently come to know?

The painful clench in her chest at the thought was all the answer she needed. She knew now, that evil came in many forms, but evil did not save your life. Your _enemy_ does not save your life, and the realization that hurt the most though, was that her loyalty was now divided. Just as she felt the moral obligation to help Harry do what was right, she also now felt morally obligated to help this man, her supposed enemy, restore his damaged soul. Restoring this broken man’s soul brought the promise of redemption, remorse, and a return to humanity; how could that not also be considered doing what was right?

 

She sighed heavily, and shook herself from her thoughts, and climbed from the quickly cooling bathwater. She made her way back to the bedroom and pulled on a pair of black pants and a cashmere sweater, then ate the breakfast Satine had delivered while she bathed. After she finished eating, she stowed her wand and headed to the laboratory. She had not seen Voldemort since the previous night, and for that, she was a tad grateful. When she thought about how her skin had tingled as his hand had came to rest on the small of her back as they danced, or how there was a nervous fluttering in her stomach as he had gazed at her so intensely, she wasn’t ready to analyze what that meant.

As she entered the lab, the potions were still simmering under her perfectly executed stasis charm, and to her surprise there was a piece of parchment awaiting her at her workstation; her stomach did a nervous flip flop as she read it, and she inwardly cursed herself:

_Hermione,_

_I regret that I will be unable to join you in the lab today; however I am very much looking forward to discussing your results later this evening. I am confident that your endeavors will be successful, as your methodology is impeccable and decidedly not shoddy. _

_Until then,  
~Tom_

 

Hermione shook her head and laughed to herself. _Had he just made a joke_? Her heart skipped a beat when she saw his signature, written in his unique spiky scrawl; he had signed the letter ‘ _Tom_ ’. Not _The Dark Lord_ , not _Lord Voldemort_ , just _Tom_. She knew the only person who had dared call him that was dead; Albus Dumbledore. She couldn’t help the questions that flooded her mind over a simple signature. Why would he address himself to her in that way? Was he trying to remind her of his humanity? She filed the questions away in her ever growing list of things she would never understand about this man.

She removed the stasis charm on the potions one by one and finished the brewing process for each one individually and carefully labeled and bottled the result of each batch. She made some more notes on the properties of each, such as final shade of the brewed potion, whether or not there was visible steam, and any other qualities she could observe such as luminescence, scent, viscosity, and transparency. After cleaning her workstation and placing the bottled potions in the cabinet so that he could test them later, she headed back to her room to continue reading the book she had started a few nights before. As she walked down the hall, she head hushed voices coming from a closed door, and her heart sped up when she recognized the unmistakable lilt of Lucius Malfoy’s voice. She cast a disillusionment charm on herself non-verbally, and pressed herself against the wall just outside of the door to hear the conversation that was taking place inside:

 

“My Lord, Gringott’s has been compromised; it was Potter. He’s broken into the Lestrange’s vault.”

“And what exactly was it that was taken?” Voldemort asked in a deadly quiet voice.

“The Cup, My Lord. Hufflepuff’s cup.” Lucius answered, his voice now tinged with pain.

“Find him. _Track. Him. Down_. “ Voldemort whispered venomously

“Yes, My Lord.” Lucius answered

“And what of the Elder Wand? “ He asked harshly

“It has been discovered that the Elder Wand had last given its allegiance to Albus Dumbledore.” Lucius answered

Hermione felt her stomach bottom out. _He was going after the wand_.

“I require that wand. Once I have it, I can finish this once and for all.” Voldemort said with an air of finality that sent a dagger straight into Hermione’s heart.

She quickly made her way back to her room, ending the disillusionment spell she had been under. Her heart was beating a staccato in her chest, and she felt sick to her stomach. How could he look at her as he had, and singed his letter ‘ _Tom_ ’ while still moving forward with his plans to murder her best friend? She felt a rush of shame wash over her, almost suffocating her with its reminders of how she had started to believe his lies despite knowing what he was; he was a monster. He was a _beast_.

She clawed desperately at the pearls that hung around her neck; where they had once felt like the promise of something more, now they felt like a noose. She was a means to an end, just as Pandora had been. Pandora had loved him, and there was no mistaking his cold indifference when he spoke of it. The pearls heldfast around her neck, despite her desperate attempts to remove them, and she dropped to her knees clutching them tightly as the sobs wracked her body. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she drew in a ragged breath, and finally managed to pull herself into the bathroom and clean herself up. Voldemort would summon her to discuss the potions. The thought of his deception made her stomach clench painfully, before she forced her emotions back into a carefully constructed mask.

It was a few hours later that Satine arrived with his summons. Hermione kept her face stoic as she followed Satine to the laboratory where he was already holding up the bottled potions and inspecting them with a critical eye. When she entered the room, he knew immediately that something was wrong. She wore the same defeated expression she had worn the day he cruciated her on his dining room floor. He felt an ache in is chest, as he looked into her eyes and found that the passion he had come to see burning within their depths was now cold.

“Satine, Leave us.” He commanded.

The small witch nodded and turned sharply on her heel, leaving Hermione standing there fuming silently.

“What is the problem?” he asked brusquely, feeling uncomfortable at the prospect of even having such a conversation.

“Why should anything be wrong? I’ve brewed your potion, as requested. I’ve served my purpose, have I not?” Hermione shot back sarcastically, unable to keep the edge of anger and pain from her voice. He may be able to effectively hide his emotions, if he even had any at all, but she could not.

“I don’t care for your tone.” He said narrowing his eyes at her and placing his hands on the workstation on front of him.

“Well, I am your prisoner, so I expect you can you can force me to do as you will.” Hermione spat.

“Hermione…”

“No. _You_ don’t get to call me that. You lied to me! You made me believe that you…”She began before he cut her off sharply.

“That I what? That I valued your intelligence? That I wanted…” he trailed off and closed his eyes momentarily before fixing his gaze on her once again, “I never lied to you.”

Hermione felt unshed tears well in her eyes despite her best efforts to hold them back.

“I know that you are going after the Elder Wand.” She said brazenly. She knew she ran an extremely high risk of getting herself killed, but she needed to hear him say it with his own mouth.

“Hermione, this is far more complicated that you realize.” He said looking away from her.

“You don’t deny it.” Hermione said quietly, and he felt another stab in his chest at the tone of her voice.

“It is the only way.” He said taking a step towards her

“Of course it is, you will stop at nothing-“

“No.” he shouted causing her to look up at him sharply in confusion.

“This course of events was set in motion a long time ago. I never asked for this. Power, yes. Influence, absolutely. A Prophecy? No. I never asked for that.” He said softly.

Hermione flinched as if he’d slapped her. She had never thought about the implications that the prophecy had on both him and Harry. Yes, he had done terrible things, but the prophecy placed him against Harry forcing them into this deadly association. _Neither can live while the other survives._

“Ever since that prophecy was made, I did what I had to do to ensure my own survival. It was nothing personal.” He said as if that explained everything.

Hermione felt her anger flare in her chest once more

“How can you say that? Of course it was personal! You murdered Harry’s parents and tried to murder him as an infant. I assure you, that to him, it was _very_ personal!” She yelled, not caring if he cursed her. She was too far gone now to stop.

“It was him or me. I chose me, and I’m not sorry for that.” He spat venomously.

Hermione shook her head and laughed bitterly, “Of course you’re not. You can’t feel remorse, you don’t care about anything at all!” she shouted

“I care for _you_!” he roared.

Hermione’s eyes widened, and she inhaled sharply.

As he realized what he had just said, he closed his eyes and turned his face away from her.

Her voice was so quiet when she finally spoke;

“Then let me go.” She whispered.

She held her breath, her heart beating so loudly that she thought he would hear it.

He didn’t answer right away, and instead turned his hand over, and in it he held a small silver antique hand mirror. He handed it to her, and she took it from him, her brows furrowed in confusion. She noticed there was a small shard missing,

This mirror is charmed. I want you to keep it with you. If you are in trouble, I can find you.” He said

“What are you saying?” she asked, feeling hope flare in her chest

“I release you.” He said quietly, and she felt the tingle of his magic run over her skin.

She stood staring at him in shock. He was letting her go? Just like that? She reached up to remove the pearls from her neck when he moved over to her placing his hand gently on hers to still her movement.

“I wish for you to keep them.”

Hermione nodded, there were a million things she wanted to say, but she couldn’t manage a single one. With a last look at him, she closed her eyes and disapparated with a crack.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are still enjoying this! Please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought of this chapter! xo

**~~{0}~~**

 

Hermione felt the familiar squeezing sensation and closed her eyes tightly until she felt solid ground beneath her feet. She was still shaking, and adrenaline was still coursing through her veins; he had let her go. She didn’t stop to contemplate the reason, and she immediately placed a disillusionment charm on herself, and found a cave in the forest to hide in. Once she had placed wards around it, she collapsed on the ground and just willed her heart to slow its frantic beating. Harry and Ron were still on the run, and she knew there was no possible way to locate them; she herself had made sure of that. The only thing that she knew for certain was that Voldemort planned to go after the Elder wand, which she now knew was entombed with their fallen Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. She knew that at some point, Harry would become aware of Voldemort’s intentions to acquire the Wand from Dumbledore’s resting place, which meant that there was a possibility that Harry would go there in an attempt to stop him. The thought of Voldemort and Harry facing off made bile rise in the back of her throat. She knew eventually, it would be inevitable, but now, instead of feeling a kernel of optimism that Harry would be victorious all she felt was empty. No matter the outcome, she was going to lose someone. After everything she had been through, she had come to know the man who called himself Lord Voldemort; and he was so much more than the monster she had believed him to be; He was _Tom_.

_I care for you!_

He had said it, and as much as she wanted to deny it, she knew it to be true. He had proven it when he had let her go. She inhaled deeply sealing away her turbulent emotions and stood up brushing off her clothes. If she couldn’t get to Harry, she would do the next best thing; it was time to contact Dumbledore’s Army.

 

~~{0}~~

 

“Hermione! We all thought you were dead! The few reports we were able to hear only mentioned Harry and Ron…” Neville said pulling her into a fierce hug.

“Yes, well, I’m very much alive. We were captured by Death Eaters a few weeks back, and Harry and Ron managed to escape. I wasn’t so lucky.” Hermione told him not wanting to go into detail. Despite the fact that they were all still fighting against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, she wanted to keep the time she had shared with him to herself; to her, he wasn’t quite the evil monster they all believed him to be.

“How did you get away?” He asked eagerly

_I release you._

“I saw an opportunity to escape, and I took it.” She said, hoping he would let the matter drop.

“Thank God for that. Snape is the Headmaster now, and you need to watch out for the Carrows.” Neville explained.

“Neville, have you heard from Harry at all?” Hermione asked hopefully.

“No, only the reports we’ve managed to pick up over the wireless. He and Ron were sighted breaking out of Gringotts, but no one has heard anything since then.” Neville told her.

“I think he’s going to come here. We need to be ready when he does.”

“Harry? Why would he come here? There are alarms-“

“Voldemort. He’s coming.” Hermione said urgently.

Neville’s eyes widened, “He’s coming to Hogwarts? Why would he do that? The Death Eaters have already taken over the school…” Neville asked

“He’s looking for something. Harry will know what he’s planning, and he’ll come. I know he’ll come. You must warn the others. _Find a way_.”

Neville nodded in understanding. The relatively small group of students that made up Dumbledore’s Army were already assembled in the Room of Requirement, but Hermione knew that it was imperative to get word to any remaining order members.

“I’ll speak with Aberforth. He knows how to contact a few of the others.” Neville said.

“Aberforth?” Hermione questioned

“Aberforth Dumbledore.” Neville explained.

Hermione’s eyes widened. She had known Dumbledore had a brother, and that there was some bad blood between them, but she had no idea that he was on their side. Not that she suspected he was a Death Eater, more that he preferred to stay out of it completely.

“For what it’s worth, Hermione, I’m glad you made it back.” Neville said giving her one last hug before he climbed through a large portrait in the Room of Requirement and disappeared. Seamus stepped up to her along with Dean and gave her a hug, but Dean was quickly pushed aside as Ginny launched herself at Hermione in a tight hug.

“I never thought I would see you again.” Ginny whispered wiping tears from her eyes. Ginny considered Hermione to be the sister she had never had, was so relieved to know that she was alive.

“Have you heard from them? Harry, is he?” Ginny began not able to finish her sentence. It didn’t escape Hermione’s notice that Ginny seemed more concerned for Harry than her own brother, and she tried to hide her smile. Ginny had been in love with Harry since she met him in King’s Cross station for Harry’s first trip to Hogwarts. It seemed that Ginny had finally come to realize that she couldn’t hide it any longer.

“No he’s…I’m sure he’s still out there with Ron.” Hermione said squeezing her arm to comfort her, “You need to tell him, you know.”

Ginny sighed and a laugh bubbled up in her throat as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “I know. I couldn’t live with myself if…if I never get the chance to.” Ginny said feeling the tears coming again. Hermione pulled her into a hug and let her cry. The statement was like a knife piercing her heart; she would be devastated of course if Harry didn’t make it, but there was someone else she was thinking of in that moment.

“You will, Gin, You will.” Hermione told her as her sobs finally quieted down.

 

~~{0}~~

 

Harry’s eyes shot open and he bolted out of bed breathing heavily

“Ron! Ron wake up…He’s found it. Voldemort’s going after the Elder wand!” Harry shouted waking Ron from an exhausted sleep.

“Where? What should we do?” Ron asked as he stood from the cot rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“The Wand was Dumbledore’s. I can’t believe I hadn’t figured it out sooner; Grindelwald had the wand, and Dumbledore defeated him. Voldemort’s figured it out, and he’s going to take it from Dumbledore.” Harry explained as he began to shove things into a bag.

“But that would mean…” Ron began before Harry finished his thought.

“Yes, he’s going to Hogwart’s; he’s going to take it from Dumbledore’s tomb.” Harry said angrily, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

Ron looked pale at the thought.

“We have to stop him. If he gets that wand…” Harry didn’t need to finish that sentence. They both knew what would happen.

“But what about the rest of the horcruxes? We still haven’t destroyed the cup, and we don’t even know what the rest of them are!” Ron cried.

“We have to go there Ron. We can’t let him get that wand. We may not have the sword of Gryffindor, but maybe we can get a Basilisk fang…”

Ron sighed. He knew Harry was right, but they weren’t ready. Would they ever be ready? He honestly didn’t know. The order was already mostly obliterated, Hogwart’s was now being run by Death Eaters, and the Ministry was controlled by Voldemort…the outcome wasn’t looking very good.

“So how do you propose we get into Hogwart’s?” Ron asked in defeat.

 

~~{0}~~

 

Voldemort stood in the lab still staring at the spot where she had stood only moments before. Part of him was angry that she would choose to leave him after he admitted that he cared for her, but the self-depreciating part was already filling his thoughts that he didn’t deserve her, and that he never would.

He bellowed with rage and blasted apart the lab bench in front of him. He should never have let her in. He never let anyone in, but somehow she had managed to get under his skin. He could still remember the way she looked at him as he held her as they danced. For a moment, he let himself believe that maybe, she saw him, _really saw him_ , and not just the monster. Now when he closed his eyes, all he saw was the look of betrayal on her face.

Taking another deep breath, he raised his wand and repaired the bench, and picked up her notes on the healing potion.

 

_ Batch 1 Observations: _

_Cauldron type used: Quartz_

_Color: Milky white_

_Vapor: None_

_Viscosity: consistency of honey_

_Scent: None observed_

_Transparency: Cloudy_

_ Batch 2 Observations: _

_Cauldron type used: Solid Gold_

_Color: Clear_

_Vapor: None_

_Viscosity: consistency of water_

_Scent: slightly sweet_

_Transparency: fully transparent_

_ Batch 3 Observations: _

_Cauldron type used: Iron_

_Color: White_

_Vapor: Misty_

_Viscosity: consistency of Milk_

_Scent: None observed_

_Transparency: fully Opaque_

 

He knew from his extensive knowledge of potions that usually, the ones that were transparent in nature were usually the most potent. Based on that assumption, he could assume that batch number three would be the least potent. He had been curious about using a quartz cauldron, since quartz is generally associated with healing properties, and he had theorized that those properties would leech into the potion increasing its potency. However, the potion brewed in the solid gold cauldron that had been Hermione’s suggestion, seemed to exhibit all of the characteristics he was looking for. He picked up the bottle that held the contents from batch number two, and confirmed Hermione’s findings. The potion was so clear, that it could easily be mistaken for Veritaserum, only the slightly sweet scent differentiating it. He had performed the necessary ritual a few times before, although none of them worked; the potion hadn’t been strong enough. Was it possible that this potion, brewed by the one woman who had ever managed to breach his walls would be the one to make him whole again? He needed to find out. According to his arithmantic equations, the ritual would be the most effective at dusk.

That evening, as the sun was beginning to dip low over the horizon, Voldemort strode out into the clearing deep within the forest, placing wards around the area to keep the acromantulas at bay. He used his wand to create the seven pointed star on the ground to represent the seven pieces of his soul, and stood in the center of it. He pulled a small dagger from his sleeve and opened his robes revealing the pale expanse of his chest, and he carved into it the same rune Hermione had carved into the cauldron. He tipped the vial containing the potion to his lips, and swallowed it all as he began to chant the incantation over and over as he traced the seven pointed star on his forehead.

_Anima Sanentur, Anima Sanentur, Anima Sanentur…._

Pain. He felt white hot pain exploding behind his eyelids as he fell to the ground. He idly wondered if this was what the cruciatus felt like. It felt like liquid fire was running through his veins, and distantly, he thought he heard screaming. Infinite pain, and then the flashes began. Faces; screams of his victims, everyone he had struck down in his quest for power. He wasn’t feeling the apathy that usually filled him in those moments, he was experiencing the deaths of his victims through their eyes. He felt their fear, raw and visceral as they looked upon his face, he felt the blinding pain that he inflicted upon them, and finally, he felt their fear; fear of death, fear of not being able to tell their loved ones goodbye, and fear of what awaited them on the other side. The screaming continued until he thought he would go mad; He felt wetness upon his cheeks, had he been crying? He didn’t know. It felt like hours, days, years passed, although in reality it may have only been moments. Finally, everything went black.

He awoke, sometime later, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed, since the sun had fully set. He lifted his hand, and felt a stab of disappointment that it still appeared to be the hand of a monster. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what would happen to him physically, but he theorized that if the potion had been successful, his body would return to that of his seventeen year old self; the year he had made his first horcrux. He stood, noting that at least the potion had healed the wound on his chest where he had carved the rune, and made his way back to the manor.

He stood in front of the large mirror in his bed chamber, and for the first time felt something when he looked at his reflection; revulsion. With a growl, he smashed the mirror and apparated to Malfoy Manor. It was time to acquire the Elder Wand, and finally finish what had been started seventeen years ago…


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what you have all been waiting for! There will be at least one more chapter after this - I truly hope you all enjoyed this story, I particularly loved it. Please let me know what you think! xo

**~~{0}~~**

 

Hermione cast a disillusionment charm over herself and crept silently from the castle using a little known secret passage behind one of the suits of armor on the third floor. The thought of what she was about to do made her sick to her stomach, but she knew it must be done. She swept quickly and quietly across the grounds to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, looking around to make sure she was alone. Dumbledore’s Tomb sat undisturbed, and she let out a shaky breath as she lifted her wand and whispered, _reducto_. She head the crack of the marble as it split, and she let out a strangled sob. Once again, she lifted her wand and chanted _wingardium Leviosa_ to move away the top of the slab, setting it down gently on the grass. Hermione took a deep breath and walked up to the open sarcophagus, steeling herself to once again look upon the body of her fallen Headmaster. He looked peaceful, as if he was merely sleeping, his hands clasped over his stomach clutching the object that she had come for; the Elder Wand. She reached inside and rested her hand atop of his for a moment, trying to choke back the steady stream of tears that were cascading down her face.

“I’m so sorry…”she whispered to him as if he could hear her.

Her fingers closed around the wand, and she pulled it from his grasp and stepped back from the tomb. She once again raised her own wand used it to replace the slab of marble and silently cast _reparo_ so that he was once again encased in pristine marble.

Just as she turned around, she heard the tell-tale crack of apparition, and heard a familiar voice come from behind her

“Give me the wand, Hermione.”

_Voldemort._

She turned to face him then, and he stood staring at her, a blank expression on his face. His wand was in his hand, although it was pointed towards the ground. As she stared at him, she noticed there was something different about him…

_His eyes._

They were no longer the crimson she had grown accustomed to, they were now a stormy grey. Before she could think too much on it, he asked her again, more forcefully this time.

“Give me the wand, Hermione, I don’t wish to hurt you.”

Just then, she heard another crack of apparition to her left

_Harry_

“No. I can’t do that.” She said holding his gaze evenly as she lifted the wand and before either of them could stop her, she snapped it in two with a resounding crack.

“No!” Voldemort shouted as he made to take a step towards her

“Hermione! Move!” Harry yelled as a jet of red light whizzed past her shoulder towards Voldemort.

Hermione ducked and rolled across the ground as the two wizards began to duel with each other in earnest. Her heart was beating frantically in her chest. Curses were being volleyed back and forth from Harry to Voldemort, and then back again. She heard a curse collide with a large tree branch above her, and the sickening crack of the wood as she looked up just as it was rushing towards the ground from directly above her. She felt the force of a spell hit her chest sending her sprawling backwards out of harm’s way, and she looked up in time to see Voldemort looking at her over his shoulder, his wand still pointed in her direction.

“Don’t you touch her!” Harry shouted as another curse was hurled towards him, and the dueling began again.

For the second time, he had saved her life. She felt her chest constricting as she watched helplessly as the duel continued, and she managed to get to her feet just as the tell-tale crack of apparition began to fill the air around her. Death Eaters and Aurors suddenly joining the fray. Hermione was suddenly pulled into the fight when Antonin Dolohov began throwing curses at her. There was so much happening all at once around her, that she had lost track of Harry and Voldemort. Suddenly, she felt someone at her back; it was Neville.

“The snake is dead. I killed it with the sword of Gryffindor just before I ran into Ron, he was going to the Chamber so he could destroy the cup.” Neville said over his shoulder as he shot curses at the Death Eaters surrounding them.

Hermione’s blood ran cold. _The horcruxes_. As soon as they were all destroyed, Voldemort could die.

“He said there was something still in the castle that Harry needed to get. We have to try and create a distraction so that Harry can get away.” Neville told her.

Hermione nodded feeling sick to her stomach. She forced her way deeper into the fighting until she spotted them. Harry and Voldemort were still intensely locked in a duel, but she had to do something that would allow Harry to get away. She lifted her wand and cast a shield charm in front of Harry, watching as one of Voldemort’s spells collided with it. Harry glanced her her briefly and she nodded as he apparated away with a crack. Voldemort’s eyes flicked up to hers furiously, and she took off running weaving her way through the battlefield dodging curses as she ran. She continued running blindly, into the forest trying to put as much distance between herself and Voldemort when she heard a familiar clacking sound come from behind her. She sucked in a breath, and turned casting _Aranea Eximae_ at the Acromantula that was rearing to strike at her when several more began to surround her from the opposite side. She was firing curses off as quickly as she could spinning around in all directions, but there were too many of them. Just as an acromantula was about to leap at her, she heard the crack of apparition and Jets of green light were blowing the large arachnids back into the forest, sending them skittering away from her.

When the last one had fled, she turned to see Voldemort looking at her with a look that could only be described as longing.

Hermione let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and ran into his arms, pressing her face against his chest.

“How did you-“ she began when he seemed to know what she was going to ask and cut him off

“The mirror. As long as you have it, I can always find you.” He said allowing his arms to wrap around her hesitantly.

“I had to destroy it.” She said quietly willing him to understand.

“And I have to destroy Potter.” He said quietly willing _her_ to understand.

A sob escaped her throat then, and she nodded, wanting to let him know that she did understand that he was bound by the prophecy, and that she knew now that if there was any way that he could have avoided it, he would have.

“Please do not try to interfere, no matter what happens. I only want to know that you’re safe.” He said caressing her cheek.

“You know I can’t promise that.” She said pulling away from him. There was so much she wanted to say, but she couldn’t find the words.

“I wish things could have been different. I wish I could do something” She said as she looked at him with tears streaming down her cheeks

 

“You already have.” He said cryptically. She had done so much more than she would ever know.

“Go.” He pointed back towards the castle and looked away from her.

Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at him one last time trying to convey everything she felt in her eyes, and disapparated with a crack.

 

~~{0}~~

 

Hermione felt the ground materialize beneath her feet in the courtyard just beyond the castle’s wards there seemed to be a respite from the fighting, as many were now hovering over the bodies of their fallen friends. Hermione looked around at the carnage and she choked back a sob. She didn’t dare look any closer, she couldn’t deal with the knowledge of who else she may have already lost. All that mattered was getting to Harry. She ran up the steps to the castle doors and her eyes swept the great hall which was now set up for medical triage. Madame Pomfrey with the help of several other students were attending to the injured. She pretended not to see the line of bodies covered in white sheets lining the wall. She pulled her eyes from the still forms, and made her way to the staircase, running as fast as she could. Both Ron and Harry were coming towards her now, when they heard Voldemort’s voice echo across the grounds

_You have fought valiantly, but in vain; I do not wish this, every drop of magical blood spilt is a waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity._

_Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you; On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you, rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the forbidden forest and confront your fate._

Hermione’s eyes snapped up to Harry’s, and the hardened look in his eyes told her that it was time.

“The diadem is destroyed, just now by fiendfyre in the Room of requirement. It’s time to finish this.” Harry said clenching his jaw. She looked at Ron, who still held the basilisk fang in his hand, having just destroyed the cup.

“I’ll come with you.” She said softly placing a hand on his arm.

“No, I need to do this alone.” he said looking away from her.

She tried to stop the tears, but she knew this could be the last time she ever saw her best friend. Her chin quivered as she pulled him into a hug willing him to feel how much he meant to her. He hugged her tightly, letting her know that he knew.

She stepped away from him, and watched him descend the stairs when another voice called out from behind her.

 

“Harry! Wait! Please…”

It was Ginny. She bounded down the stairs and threw herself into his arms kissing him with everything she had. Hermione couldn’t help the small smile and she turned her eyes to Ron who looked supremely uncomfortable, turning his eyes away from their private moment.

“I couldn’t let you leave without telling you, I love you, Harry.” Ginny said clutching him to her tightly.

Harry sighed and pulled her close, swallowing back all the emotion that threated to boil over.

“I love you too, Ginny, I always have.” He told her as he cupped her cheek kissing her gently as if she was the most fragile thing in the world.

“Then come back to me.” She whispered against his cheek, and then stepped away from him abruptly running from the room sobbing.

Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself for what he had to do.

 

~~{0}~~

 

As Harry entered the forbidden forest, He pulled out the golden snitch that had been left to him by Headmaster Dumbledore. He looked at it for a moment, and saw the inscription, _I open at the close,_ scrawl across the front. He remembered having caught this snitch in his first year at Hogwart’s in his mouth. Hesitantly, he placed the snitch against his lips, and when he pulled it back, the top opened and a small black rectangular stone floated out of it, hovering in front of him.

_The resurrection stone_.

He closed his fist around it, and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his mother, father, and Sirius Black were all standing before him.

“I’m afraid…” he admitted, feeling his resolve wavering.

His mother caressed his cheek, even though he couldn’t feel her touch, and she gazed down at him with love shining in her eyes.

“I’m so proud of you sweetheart. You’ve been so brave.” She said

“I don’t feel brave.” He said swiping a tear from his cheek

“Well you are, son.” His father stepped up beside his mother now, looking at him with a sad smile.

“Does it hurt? Dying?” he asked suddenly

“It’s faster than falling asleep.” Sirius said stepping forward with an encouraging half smile.

“Will you stay with me?” he asked looking at his mother now.

“Until the end.” She said as she looked lovingly at him.

Harry took a deep breath, and looked at them all one last time before he began to make his way to the clearing where he knew Voldemort was waiting.

 

~~{0}~~

 

Voldemort was pacing in the clearing when he heard the half-giant shout from behind him

“Harry? No! What are you doing here!”

Voldemort turned and locked eyes with Harry Potter

“Potter. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Voldemort sneered.

“Lets finish this.” Harry said gritting his teeth and glaring at the pale wizard before him.

Both wizards began to shoot spells back and forth, circling each other in a deadly dance

 

~~{0}~~

 

Hermione couldn’t stand the waiting. Before Ron could stop her, she took off at a run, and shot a _petrificus totalis_ over her shoulder at Ron who she knew would be following after her. She heard his body hit the ground with a dull thud, but she couldn’t stop to worry about him, not when her heart was being torn in two.

She ran to the edge of the forbidden forest, and crept as quietly as she could towards the sounds up ahead that signified a duel was in progress. Just as she reached the edge of the clearing, she could see Voldemort’s back to her and Harry on the other side of him with a grim look of determination on his face.

She stood frozen watching the scene play out before her when she heard Bellatrix shriek, “This time you’re going to die, Mudblood!”

Things seemed to happen in slow motion; She flicked her gaze toward Bellatrix who had her arm slung back, and suddenly, there was a dagger racing towards her. She then felt a solid body collide with hers with a grunt as it landed on top of her.

She opened her eyes, and saw Voldemort covering her with his body, Bellatrix’s dagger lodged deep within his back. She looked up in time to see Bellatrix howl in rage before she turned her wand on Harry and screamed _Avada Kedavra_. Hermione watched helplessly as the jet of green light hit Harry in the chest and her best friend fell down dead. She looked back again clutching at Voldemort. He was still alive, but just barely. He was grasping her arms tightly, and gritting his teeth in pain.

Bellatrix made a move towards her, and he flicked his wrist sending her sprawling back into a tree, a clear message to stand down.

“Hermione…” he whispered looking into her eyes

She felt the tears pouring over her cheeks as she held him close to her

“Don’t leave me, _Please…_ ” she pleaded trying to stop the flow of blood from his back that was now covering her hands.

“I wish I could have been the man you deserve.” He gasped as reached his hand up to brush her cheek

She closed her eyes at his words, the tears falling freely now as she held him to her chest. She leaned her forehead down to his and kissed it, whispering “I love you, Tom” against his ear.

He let out a last shuddering breath, and sagged against her

“No!” she cried feeling her body shake with the force of her sobs.

The sound of apparition filled the clearing, as aurors rounded up the remaining death eaters, and freed Hagrid.

Hermione looked up sharply when she heard him cry, “He’s still breathing! Thank God, He’s still breathing!” Harry was alive? How was it possible? She watched him get hit by the killing curse…unless…Harry was the final Horcrux. Bellatrix destroyed the last horcrux inadvertently when she cast the killing curse at Harry. The clearing was empty now, as Harry had been taken away to St. Mungos, and the death Eaters had all been apprehended. She sat alone, unnoticed beneath the body of the man who had saved her life for the fourth time. She sat up when her eyes were suddenly drawn to a glowing light beneath her fingers; where the dagger had been plunged into Voldemort’s back, it was now gone, and the wound was glowing with light as the skin of his back knitted together. She furrowed her brows and placed her hand over his heart; she felt a heartbeat.

_He was alive…_

She watched in wonder as his skin grew warm and pink, and his head filled with raven black hair, his face transforming into that of the young man she remembered from the photograph she had seen back at the chateau. Hermione’s eyes widened as she watched the monster she had grown to love melt away to reveal a handsome and very much alive young man.

“Tom?” Hermione asked shakily as he sat up lifting his hands and gazing at them in wonder before his stormy grey eyes locked onto hers.

“Hermione…” he breathed as he looked at her as if he were memorizing every detail of her face.

“How?” was all she managed to say, still staring at him as if he was going to disappear at any moment.

“You saved me, Hermione. You’re _love_ saved me.” He said pulling her towards him brushing his lips against hers.

She sucked in a breath and then her lips crashed into his, her hands tangling in his hair.

When he finally broke the kiss, breathing heavily, he smiled.

“Harry…is he?” Tom asked remembering what had occurred just moments before he died.

“He’s alive. He survived…”Hermione told him helping him to stand.

“The aurors will likely be back, and they won’t understand what has happened. We need to get you somewhere safe. I’ll speak to Harry when he’s awake, he and Hagrid both witnessed you save my life. I’ll explain everything, I’ll make them understand.

“And if they don’t?” He asked pulling her to him again.

“They have to.” She said and then held onto him as she disapparated with a crack.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there will be one more chapter or so after this…Obviously, this is where the story will veer away a bit from Beauty and the Beast, since after what happened in the last chapter, they are supposed to live Happily ever after…but, when you Voldemort, Happily ever after doesn't come so easily. Please let me know what you think! xo

**~~{0}~~**

 

When Tom opened his eyes again, he was standing at the edge of his property, facing the large Manor that sat atop the hill. He threaded his fingers through Hermione's and they walked together down the hill towards the manor.

"How did you survive? I watched you die, and I know your horcruxes were all destroyed…" Hermione couldn't hold back the question that had been in the forefront of her mind since they were in the clearing.

"It seems that your potion was a success." He said looking over at her with a look of admiration in his eyes.

"My potion? You mean…" she started before he cut her off.

"Yes, the potions you brewed before I released you. I read your notes on all three, and it seems the one you brewed in the solid gold cauldron was the key. I did the ritual that night just before coming to Hogwart's. At first, I didn't think it had worked, because I woke looking the same as before, only there was one necessary thing that I hadn't known I needed." He explained.

"What's that?" she asked furrowing her brow in confusion.

"The power to restore my soul was granted during the ritual, however in order for it to happen, I needed to open my heart. When I was dying, you said that you loved me…" he said blushing and looking away from her.

She stepped up to him, and lifted her hand to his cheek so that he would look at her.

"I do, Tom. I'm not sure when it happened, but you let me in, and I fell in love with you. I understand if you don't feel the same." She said letting go of his cheek and turning away from him when she remembered how coldly he spoke of Pandora's feelings.

He caught her hand in his and turned her towards him again, "I've never felt this way about anyone before. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything in my life." He said pulling her to him as he clutched her desperately, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

He picked her up and carried her into the manor, down the long hall to his bedroom.

"I'll have Satine draw you a bath." He said dropping a kiss on her forehead as he made to leave the room.

"Wait…will you stay with me?" she called after him, looking up at him from under her lashes.

Tom's eyes widened slightly, and he swallowed thickly, feeling himself become aroused at her suggestion. He never would have imagined that he would have been given a second chance at life, nevermind that she would love him and want him the way he wanted her.

He stepped towards her again, brushing his hand across her cheek with trembling fingers. She flicked her wand towards the bath, watching as it began to fill with warm lavender scented water. Even though he was restored in the aftermath of the battle, she was still quite sore and dirty from the fighting.

She bit her lip and smiled shyly at him, trying not to laugh at his nervousness. It struck her then, that he had probably never been intimate with anyone before.

"Have…have you ever?" she asked trailing off, not knowing exactly how to say it.

"I…no." he said blushing, and looking anywhere but at her.

She moved closer to him, and took his hands in hers.

"Neither have I." She said leaning up on her tiptoes so that she could kiss him.

His eyes fluttered shut, and he groaned into her mouth as she kissed him more deeply now, moving her hands up slowly to unbutton his robes. His skin was smooth and pale, though not overly so, and his body was lithe and lean. He reached down to the hem of her shirt, and pulled it off over her head, and she bit back a smirk as his hands traveled immediately to her breasts that were still hidden by her pink bra. She leaned in and kissed his chest enjoying the way he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as she explored his body.

She unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down over her hips, now only clad in her underthings as she looked up into his eyes for permission to remove his pants. He captured her lips again as her hands found the button of his pants and she slipped them down over his slim hips as she kissed him. His hands moved to her waist, pushing her knickers down as well, while she removed her bra. She broke the kiss and smiled at him pulling him towards the bath. They both stepped in and she moved over to him and he pulled her onto his lap as he continued to kiss her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She could feel him hard against her thigh, and she moved a hand down between them to guide him into her. She gasped at the feeling of fullness when he entered her slowly, as he let out a shuddering breath. Once she had adjusted to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and began to move, their lips meeting once more. His heart was pounding in his chest, and she could feel that it was in sync with her own as she made love to him. It didn't take long before he was grasping her hips and groaning against her neck as he found his release inside of her. They stayed in each other's arms for some time, neither one of them wanting to move from the other's embrace. Eventually, Hermione moved to finish washing up while he climbed out, wrapping a towel around his waist.

When she climbed out of the bath, and wrapped herself in a towel, she made her way to his bedroom, to see that he had a tray of food brought for them.

"I thought you might be hungry." He said giving her a genuine smile. It nearly took her breath away, and she hoped she would see it more often.

"I'm starving." She admitted laughing and grabbing a sandwich off of the tray and sitting across from him at the small table.

"So what happens now?" he asked, feeling the weight of his situation coming down on him once more.

"In the morning, I'm going to St. Mungos to see Harry. I'll talk to him privately. You should stay here, since this location is unplottable. As long as you are here, you'll be safe." She said threading her fingers through his.

"They'll send me to Azkaban." He said looking away from her.

"I won't let that happen." She said squeezing his hand.

She could see that he didn't share her optimism, but he didn't protest. When she finished eating, she pulled him over to the bed, and let her towel fall to the floor as she climbed beneath the sheets beside him. She was afraid of what the morning would bring, but for now, she simply held him, as they made love again.

~~{0}~~

Hermione awoke with a pair of strong arms around her, and she stretched feeling more content and fulfilled than she could ever remember. She prayed that this would be the first of many such mornings, and not the last. She turned to face him and met his eyes.

"I should go." She said softly brushing a lock of his black hair away from his eyes.

He didn't say anything, but he nodded in understanding.

"I love you." She said leaning towards him, and kissing him one last time before she stood to get dressed.

He moved from the bed and pulled on a black robe and stood with his back to her looking out the window.

"I will be back." She promised before she gathered her courage and apparated to St. Mungos.

When she arrived at the hospital, it was busy. There had been an influx of patients at the end of the battle, many of which, which did not survive. For a moment, Hermione felt guilty that she had spent the night with Tom, not thinking at all about those who gave their life to fight the man she had fallen in love with.

She stepped up to the desk, and the witch behind it gasped in surprise when she recognized her.

"Miss Granger. You must be here for Mr. Potter. He's in room seventeen, just down the hall." She said pointing in the direction of Harry's room.

She nodded politely, and walked down the hall until she came to the room marked '17', and knocked lightly.

"Come in." She heard Harry's voice call from within the room.

"Hey." She said looking at him fro around the door before hesitantly stepping into the room. Thankfully, no one else was there visiting at the moment.

"How are you feeling?" she asked taking a seat by his bed.

"Considering I died, I guess I could be worse." He said chuckling.

"Do you…do you remember anything?" she asked biting her lip nervously.

"I…I thought I saw Voldemort…no that couldn't have been what I thought." He said waving his hand dismissively.

"What do you think you saw, Harry?" she asked hoping he would remember.

"It all happened so fast, but I heard Bellatrix yell ' _mudblood_ ', and both Voldemort and I stopped to look. She was throwing something at you, but then he…it looked like he threw himself in front of whatever it was. But that doesn't make any sense." Harry said pinching the bridge of his nose.

"He did, Harry. He saved my life." She said quietly, and Harry looked up at her sharply.

"What happened to you?" he asked, wanting to know about her time as his captive.

"It's a long story, Harry." She told him giving him a small smile.

"Voldemort, is he dead? No one would tell me. They said they hadn't located his body." Harry asked.

Hermione bit her lip and twisted her hands nervously in her lap.

"Harry, there's something I need to tell you." She said taking a deep breath.

"What is it?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concern from her nervousness.

"When I was his prisoner, I spent quite a bit of time with him. Not by choice, you understand, and at first, my only thought was of you, and not doing anything that would get me killed." She said pensively.

Harry nodded, urging her to continue.

"Well, during this time, he spoke to me quite a lot, and what I learned was quite surprising. He regretted making the horcruxes. As you can imagine, splitting your soul even once has drastic effects, nevermind seven times. He was almost incapable of feeling remorse for the lives he'd taken, and could torture and kill with complete apathy. For years, he was trying to find a way to undo the damage he'd done to himself and to restore his soul. Luna's mother was a student at the same time that he was and she spent many years of her life trying to find a way to restore his soul when she realized what he had done." Hermione explained.

"Luna's mother? Why would she do that?" Harry asked listening to what she was saying with rapt attention.

"Because she was in love with Tom Riddle, and had been since they were both students at Hogwarts. He didn't return her feelings, but it's possible that it was because he had already made a horcrux." Hermione told him.

"This is really fascinating, Hermione, but what does this have to do with you?" Harry asked in confusion.

"He took me with him to a private estate, and he asked me to do research picking up where Luna's mother, Pandora, left off. She was killed when Luna was nine, when one of the spells backfired on her. I read her journal, and I was able to brew a potion that when taken during a ritual, would have the power to restore his soul. At one point, we had an argument when I purposely defied his orders, and I thought for sure he would torture me or kill me, yet he didn't. I was frightened, so I fled, on foot into the forest. He had taken my wand, but I thought if I could reach a muggle village, somehow, I could find my way back. Instead, I ended up in the middle of an Acromantula's nest." Hermione said.

"How did you get out without a wand?" Harry asked, his brows raised I surprise.

"I wouldn't have been able to make it out, but Voldemort apparated to me, and saved my life."

"Well, of course he did, he didn't want to lose his prize researcher." Harry sneered.

"That was my assumption too, at first. He even said as much, but, he didn't punish me, even after I tried to escape. He even gave me back my wand. Then, he asked me to have dinner with him." She said looking anywhere but at Harry.

"Like…a date? And you agreed?" Harry said incredulously.

"Well, most of the time, it was expected that I would dine with him. I didn't have a choice. But on this particular occasion, he  _asked_ me. We talked about quite a lot of things, including why he pushes pureblood supremacy, and I told him my very strong opinions on that. Needless to say, during the time that I spent with him, I saw much more of Tom Riddle, and less and less of Voldemort."

"Hermione, you were a prisoner, you only saw what he wanted you to see-" Harry began

"He let me go, Harry." Hermione interrupted, shocking Harry into silence.

"I overheard him talking to Malfoy about going after the Elder wand. I was angry because I thought that he was trying to do the right thing for once by restoring his soul. In order to restore your soul, you must feel remorse. When I heard that he was still going after the wand, and that he still intended to face you, I lost it. We argued over it in the lab, and he explained to me about the prophecy. He said that he never asked for it, and that when it was made, he only went after you as a matter of self preservation. He didn't know you, or your family, but if you were going to someday kill him, he thought it best to take you out before you had the chance. Obviously, we all know how that turned out. But he was bound by it, the same as you. I accused him of not caring about anyone but himself, and he admitted that he cared for me…so I asked him to let me go. He did." Hermione said feeling her voice shake as she remembered the exchange.

"Just like that he let you go?" Harry asked dumbfounded.

" Yes, he did. That was when I found Neville. I went to Hogwarts, knowing that I had to destroy the Elder wand. When you showed up and began to duel, I had rolled to the ground out of the way, only one of your spells hit a large branch above me, and Voldemort used his magic to push me out of harm's way before it landed on me, while he was dueling you." Hermione told him.

"That's what happened? I thought he was trying to curse you." Harry said furrowing his brows.

"No Harry, he was trying to keep me safe. When I used my shield so that you could apparate, I ran into the forbidden forest, and once again found myself surrounded by hungry Acromantulas. Voldemort saved me again. He asked me not to interfere, and that the prophecy demanded only the two of you face eachother. I told him I couldn't promise that. He told me he had no desire to kill you, but that the prophecy was forcing his hand."

Harry looked skeptical, but allowed her to continue.

"In the clearing, when you were dueling, Bellatrix threw a dagger at me. Voldemort threw himself in front of it, believing that all of his horcruxes had been destroyed. He was willing to die to save me, Harry. When Bellatrix hit you with the killing curse, you survived because you were Voldemort's last horcrux, the one he never meant to make, and hadn't even known he'd made. It was the horcrux that was destroyed that night, not you. I held him in my arms as he took his final breath." She said wiping her eyes.

"So he is dead then?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Yes, and no, Harry." Hermione said cryptically biting her lip.

"Why do I get the feeling there is something very important that you aren't telling me." Harry asked looking at her suspiciously.

"He drank the potion and completed the ritual to restore his soul before the battle at Hogwart's. He didn't think it had worked, because he hadn't been physically restored, as he thought he would be. But it seemed that even though the ritual was successful, his soul was not actually restored until he opened his heart to someone, and they loved him in return." She explained looking at her feet.

"So what are you saying, Hermione?" Harry asked forcing her to look up at him.

She took a shuddering breath, "I love him, Harry." She said as a tear fell from her eye.

He recoiled from her as if she'd slapped him, which only caused her to cry harder.

"Neither of us asked for this to happen, but it did. I told him I loved him before he took his final breath. A few moments later, the wound on his back from Bellatrix's dagger began to glow, and heal, and I felt his heart was beating again, even though I had felt it stop. Before my eyes, he was transformed from Lord Voldemort back to a seventeen year old Tom Riddle. Lord Voldemort, who killed your parents, as well as countless others is dead. Tom is the seventeen year old who hasn't done any of those things, Harry."

Harry sat in silence staring at the wall, until he finally spoke, "How do you expect me to believe that he's not just waiting for some opportunity to do it all again?" he asked her venomously.

"Because his soul wouldn't have restored unless he truly felt remorse for everything he's done. He loves me, Harry, and I love him. I want you to view my memories in the pensieve to see that what I'm telling you is true." She said pleading with him.

What do you expect me to do, Hermione?" he asked her tiredly.

"I want you to accept that Lord Voldemort is dead. Tom can change his name, no one needs to know who he had once been." Hermione said clutching his hands.

"I'll know, Hermione." Harry said incredulously.

"We'll leave Britain then, and we won't ever return. Please, Harry, don't turn him over to the aurors. He's not the one who committed those crimes." Hermione pleaded.

"You'd be willing to do that for him? You'll give up your life in Britain?" Harry asked in surprise.

"I would, Harry, I love him." She said knowing that what she said was true.

I'm not agreeing to this, just so you know, but I'll view your memories, and then I'll make my decision." He said. More than anything, he was tired, and he just wanted it to be over. If what she said was true, it technically was. He needed to feel confident about that though, which at the moment, he was feeling anything but.

"Thank you, Harry. No matter what, I'll always love you." She said leaning down to plant a kiss on his forehead before she stood up to leave.

"Hermione…"Harry called after her.

"Yeah?" she asked turning to look at him before she walked out of the door

"I trust you." He said giving her a small smile.

With that, she felt a small spark of hope in her chest, as she walked out the door.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, thank you all so much for your continued love of this story! I had written this chapter the other day, and it was *completely* different, and I didn't like it, so I completely re-wrote it. I know this is turning out to be longer than I originally thought, and I know it has at this point veered away from Beauty and the Beast, I saw no other path forward to get the story where I needed it to go...so I hope you all like it! There is obviously still more to come. Please review and tell me your thoughts! xo

Hermione apparated back to the Chateau in France after leaving St. Mungo's, to find Tom sitting on the sofa deep in thought. He looked up sharply when he heard the pop of apparition, eagerly meeting Hermione’s gaze. He had been anxious even before she left, wondering how on earth she planned to keep him from being shipped off to Azkaban.

He felt a bit calmer when he saw the small smile on her face. Surely that must be a good sign?

“Please don’t keep me in suspense, I need to know what happened.” He asked as she took the seat opposite him and poured herself a cup of tea.

“Harry does remember what he saw last night. He didn’t understand it until I explained the situation. He is obviously still quite concerned, but he is willing to view my memories of my interactions with you so that he may decide for himself.” She said as she noticed Tom stiffen his posture.

She reached a hand over and squeezed his knee under the table, “Not _all_ of my memories.” She said with a blush, and he seemed to relax and give her a small smile.

“I told him about the potion, and that technically, Lord Voldemort is dead. I explained it would not be right to send you to Azkaban for crimes that he committed.”

He nodded, “It’s strange, even though this version of myself did not do the things that Lord Voldemort did, I am aware of them. I don’t have direct memories of them, but I am aware of what he did. Even though I know I’ve been given a second chance, I’m not sure that I deserve it.” He said quietly, caressing her hand that still rested on his knee with her thumb.

“Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together. You’re not alone anymore, Tom.” She said threading her fingers through his.

He nodded, still feeling as if his life was in the hands of the one person whom his other-self had tormented the most. If the roles had been reversed, he was not sure he would be so forgiving.

For the next few days, Hermione tried to make the most of her time with Tom, knowing how uncertain their future would be. They took long strolls through the vineyard and talking about their lives, and spent most nights wrapped in each other’s arms. It was a few days after she had returned from St. Mungo’s when she knew it was time to go to Grimmauld Place, and face Harry’s decision, whatever it may be.

Hermione went down to the laboratory, and picked up a small vial, and used a replication charm to make as many as she would need to store all of her memories, and headed back to their room so that she could extract her memories of her time spent with Voldemort for Harry to see. Her hands shook as she held the tip of her wand to her temple and closed her eyes, focusing on the memories she wished to extract.

She recalled her first private meeting with Voldemort at Malfoy Manor, after he requested her to dine with him, and how he then had tortured her on his dining room floor for not eating when he had commanded her to. Then of sitting in his private library at Malfoy Manor when he had asked her about the book she had been reading and their subsequent discussion about his research methodology. She continued on to their arrival in France, although she made sure to obscure any identifying details that would allow Harry to see the Manor’s location. The next memory was of Voldemort showing her his laboratory, and giving her back her wand with the explicit instructions to stay out of the East Tower. She then extracted the memory of her defying his orders and looking through his trunk in the East Tower and his subsequent reaction. Next was of her escaping the manor on foot, and running into the forest, only to be attacked by Acromantulas until he saved her life, and how he allowed her to heal his leg. She also included Voldemort telling her about the healing potion he wanted her to brew, and explaining that Luna’s mother, Pandora, had been working on it until she died. Next was the memory of Voldemort asking Hermione to dine with him, as well as her memory of their dinner and shared dance. She also included her last memory at the Chateau of overhearing his conversation with Lucius about the Elder wand, and then their subsequent argument in the lab where he admitted his feelings for her, and him releasing her. The final memory she extracted was of the Battle at Hogwarts, and of the three times he had saved her life that night, and how he had come back to her as Tom Riddle after she had told him she loved him.

She prayed that it would be enough. She tucked all of the vials of her memories in her pocket using a shrinking charm, before she made her way over to Tom.

“No matter what happens, I’ll stand by you.” She said giving him a small smile. She wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him, before she broke away and disapparated with a crack. She stepped out of an alley near Grimmauld place, and walked up to the door, knocking loudly. Harry opened the door, looking a bit sleepy, and stepped aside to let her in.

“Hermione, I wasn’t expecting you quite so early.” He said rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, well, I wanted to speak with you privately before anyone else got here. How are you feeling, by the way?” she asked pulling him into a hug.

“Fine. Just sort of tired, I guess. Tea?” he asked already walking towards the kitchen.

“Tea would be lovely.” She said pushing him down into a seat at the kitchen table and putting the kettle on for him.

“So what is it that you want to talk about?” he asked, having a feeling it was about Tom Riddle.

“I’ve brought you my memories, Harry, I’d like for you to view them. If nothing else, it will give you a sense of closure I think.” She said quietly, pouring them both a cup of tea.

After a few moments, Harry nodded, but didn’t comment, and sipped his tea.

“How’s Ron, have you seen him?” Hermione asked

“He’s…he’s having a hard time. Losing Fred hit him really hard. Ginny too.” He said quietly.

Hermione felt her stomach drop. She hadn’t known Fred had been killed during the battle.

“Who was it?” Hermione asked, her voice shaking.

“Dolohov. George killed him shortly after.” Harry said quietly.

Hermione nodded. She had been so caught up with everything that happened with Tom’s resurrection, that she hadn’t even known who else had they might have lost.

“Who else?” Hermione asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“Tonks, Remus, Severus, and Lavender…some of the others were aurors. The heaviest casualties were death eaters and snatchers.”

Hermione nodded, and looked down at her tea cup, “Will you view my memories, Harry?” she asked, holding her breath, hoping he would agree.

“Yes. Lets go upstairs, I have a pensieve up there.” He said as she followed him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom. There at the desk, sat a small pensieve.

“Dumbledore gave it to me last year. He told me that it might help to unburden my mind when it became too much. I didn’t use it as much as I probably should have.” He admitted sheepishly with a smile playing at the edge of his lips.

Hermione pulled the vials from her pocket and used _engorgio_ to bring them back to their proper size. One by one, she handed him each labeled vial in chronological order, and she sat silently on his bed as he poured the contents of each one into the pensieve and plunged his face into it.

It was sometime later that he finally emerged, and his face was emotionless.

“Harry…please say something.” She prodded, hoping that he wasn’t angry with her.

“I’m not sure what to say, honestly.” He said rubbing his hand over his eyes.

Hermione took a deep breath, “If you still want to turn him over to the Ministry, I’ll understand. I won’t interfere.” She said clasping her hands in her lap, and looking down at them to hide the tears that were threatening to fall.

Harry sighed, and grasped her hand in his, and lifted her chin, brushing a tear from her cheek.

“You truly love him, don’t you?” he asked, his green eyes searching her face.

“Yes, I do, Harry.” She told him without hesitation.

“I believe you. Tom Riddle at seventeen, before he made any horcruxes is not the monster that Lord Voldemort was. I could see that he truly regrets what his counterpart had done, and it is clear that he loves you, Hermione...but his fate is not for me to decide.” Harry said softly.

“What are you saying, Harry?” Hermione whispered, feeling her chest tighten.

“We need to turn him in. I am not the only one that has lost someone to Voldemort. There needs to be a trial. I know you would come to regret life on the run Hermione, we only did it for less than a year, and even that took its toll on all of us. If he is truly innocent, a trial will determine that, and you will both be truly free to live your lives. I’m sorry, Hermione.” Harry said covering her hand with his, willing her to understand.

Hermione nodded, “I’ll only ask you for one more favor, Harry.” She said squeezing the hand that held hers.

“Anything.” Harry said wishing he could take her pain away.

“I don’t want a team of aurors coming to drag him away. I want it to be you. Just you, Harry.”

Harry nodded, “I’ll talk to Kingsley today, and tell him that I’ll come to the ministry tomorrow with Riddle. I’ll tell him what you told me, and I’m sure that given the circumstances, the trial will happen quickly.”

“I will handle his defense.” She said giving him a determined look.

“Then I expect Riddle has a very good chance, Hermione.” He said giving her an encouraging smile.

She returned his smile, and noticed for the first time that there was something different about him. His scar was _gone_.

“Harry…your scar…it’s gone!” she said smiling as she pushed his messy hair back from his forehead.

His brows furrowed, apparently, he hadn’t noticed. He stood quickly and made his way back over to his mirror, and sure enough, there was no longer a lightning bolt shaped scar adorning his forehead.

“I suppose he really is gone, then.” Harry said with a small smile. Finally, he was _free_.

“Yes, he truly is.” Hermione agreed, squeezing his hand.

~~{0}~~

 

Hermione appeared at the Manor, and found Tom sitting on the terrace overlooking the vineyard. He knew something was wrong when he saw the grim look on her face, and when she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“He’s turning me in, then.” Tom said flatly, turning to look back out over the rolling hills below.

Hermione took a deep breath in through her nose and sat in the chair beside him, “Yes.” She said quietly.

“I expected it.” he said taking her hand in his, and staring at their joined hands.

“Harry is coming here in the morning to take you to the ministry. I told him I didn’t want a team of aurors coming here, just him.” Hermione said softly

“Hermione…” he started to say, before she cut him off.

“This isn’t over, Tom. I’m handling your defense…” she argued, not liking the sound of defeat in his tone.

“And do you think they’ll listen? Merlin, Hermione, I was _the Dark Lord_. This will only end one of two ways; the Dementor’s kiss, or Azkaban for life. The sooner you accept this…”

“No, Tom, I won’t! You are _not_ him, and I don’t intend to watch you suffer for his crimes.” Hermione said, once again getting that determined look in her eye that rendered Tom speechless.

He chuckle despite himself, “How did I get so lucky?” he said leaning over to kiss her when suddenly she stood up so abruptly that her chair fell over backwards

“Tom! That’s it! You’re brilliant!” she said leaving him gaping at her.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asked confused.

“All we need is _luck_. Felix Felicis, Tom. With luck on our side, we can’t lose.” Hermione said grabbing his hand and pulling him into the lab.

“Please tell me somewhere you have a copy of advanced potion making?” she said sifting through all of the books on the shelf.

“Uh…I do, but…” he trailed off when Hermione looked up at him expectantly.

“Well get it! We need to brew that potion!” she ordered as she started looking through his potion’s stores.

“I can’t…it’s in my private library.” He said pinching the bridge of his nose.

It took a moment before she understood what he meant; his private library was currently at Malfoy Manor, and there was no way they could get to it without drawing suspicion.

She bit her lip, deep in thought, and then her eyes brightened, “Stay here, I’ll be back shortly.” She said as she disapparated with a crack.

 

~~{0}~~

 

Hermione appeared just outside of the Leaky Cauldron, at the entrance to Diagon Alley. She tapped her wand on the bricks, and they rolled aside allowing her entrance. She stowed her wand in the pocket of her jeans and pulled her cloak tightly around her to avoid recognition, then made her way quickly towards Flourish and Blott's. Luckily, they still had a few copies left of advanced potion making, and she purchased one before stopping at the apothecary to pick up a few of the more rare ingredients that she would need, uncertain if Tom would have had them in his stores. With that out of the way, she quickly walked back to the apparition point, to head back to the Chateau.

Tom was pacing in the lab when she returned, and he stopped his movements and looked at her expectantly when she returned, since she hadn’t bothered to tell him where she was going.

“I made a quick trip to Flourish and Blott's to get a copy of the book, and to the apothecary in Diagon Alley to pick up a few ingredients. We should begin brewing straight away, since this is a fairly complex potion, and it will need to simmer for 24 hours after all the ingredients are added.” She said matter of fact, wasting no time setting up the solid gold cauldron; the Felix Felicis is one of the few potions that required a solid gold cauldron in order to be brewed it successfully, and not many wizards had access to one, which was why the potion was so rare.

She flipped the book open to the page on the Felix Felicis, and they worked silently, side by side, in perfect sync. As she chopped, he added ingredients, and stirred at the proper times.

He snuck a glance at her beside him, and the corner of his lips quirked up into a smile, “Did you know that your hair expands when you are brewing?” he said chuckling.

Hermione shot him a playful glare and blew a lock of her frizzy hair out of her face, “Don’t remind me. I’m quite aware that my hair is…unruly.” She said focusing on her work

“Well, I like it.” He said giving her a playful grin as she blushed.

“You’d be the first.” She said laughing as they finished adding the last of the ingredients and adjusted the temperature so that the potion could simmer.

“Now what shall we do while we wait?” he asked pulling her against him and kissing her lightly on the jaw.

“hmmm…I’m sure we could think of something.” Hermione said turning her face towards his to brush her lips against his.

 

~~{0}~~

 

The following morning, they entered the lab to check on the potion, and as expected, it was perfectly brewed. Hermione measured a small amount into a small vial, and bottled the rest. Although it was probably illegal, she would drink the potion on the morning of his trial, in hopes that it would give them an advantage to help them win.

“Harry will be here soon.” She said as he pulled her into his arms again.

As if on cue, Satine entered the lab with Harry Potter in tow.

Hermione stepped out of Tom’s arms, and walked over to Harry.

“Thank you.” She whispered in his ear, as the tears already began to well in her eyes.

Harry nodded, and gave her an encouraging smile, “I’ll just give you a few moments.” He said as he stepped out into the hall.

Hermione turned back to Tom and the tears she had been trying to hold back began to fall, “This _isn’t_ goodbye.” she said firmly wrapping her arms around his neck as he kissed the tears from her cheeks and then his lips crashed into hers.  The kiss was desperate, and full of everything he wished he could say, but didn’t have the words to.

“I don’t deserve you.” He said as he broke the kiss, holding her close.

“I love you.” She whispered holding her hand against his chest so that she could feel his heart beat.

A throat cleared behind them, and Hermione turned to look at Harry, “We should be going.” He said, hating to interrupt the private moment, but the portkey was due to activate any moment.

Tom nodded, and kissed Hermione one last time, not caring if Harry saw, and stepped away from her, and walked over to where Harry stood waiting.

“Potter.” He acknowledged and held out his hand to Harry.

“Riddle.” Harry said in return, and shook Tom’s outstretched hand. In that moment, a silent understanding passed between them.

Harry held out the old shoe he had been given by Kingsley to use as a portkey, and as soon as Tom touched it, he and Harry disappeared with a pop, leaving Hermione alone in the lab.

She let out a ragged breath as she watched them disappear, knowing in her heart, Harry had made the right decision. Living on the run would be no life at all. She couldn’t imagine never being able to see her friends or family again. If Tom is given a fair trial, and he is cleared of the charges, they will be free to live a life together however they choose. With that thought in mind, she headed to his study to begin preparing evidence to support his case.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this took me so long to update…I hope I made up for it with a really long chapter. There will be one more chapter (which is more of an epilogue really) after this, and then it is finished! I hope you all enjoy this. Oh, also, I'll mention I am not a lawyer, and this trial scene was written purely based in fiction, so just enjoy it for what it is Leave me a review nd tell me what you think! xoxo

The morning after she watched Tom disappear with Harry, the headline of the Daily Prophet made bile rise in the back of her throat;

_**The Dark Lord Captured Alive, Awaiting Trial in Azkaban Prison** _

The thought of Tom being held in Azkaban forced her to work even harder, often forgoing sleep. Now almost a week had passed, and she still hadn't heard any news about his trial. As she picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the date of the trial had finally been set; it was due to begin the following morning. After seeing how quickly the Wizengamot had set Harry's trial after he had used magic in front of a muggle when the dementor's had attacked him and Dudley in his fifth year, she was unsurprised. Voldemort was the darkest wizard since Grindelwald, and the Ministry very much wanted to make a public example of him so that they could put him away as quickly as possible.

Hermione dressed quickly, and went straight to Kingsley's office, making sure that all the arrangements were in place for Tom's defense. Unlike Harry, Kingsley was not as understanding of her motivations, but he grudgingly agreed that Tom would receive a fair trial.

The following morning, Hermione rose before the sun, and showered and dressed before heading down into the laboratory. She pulled the small vial of Felix Felicis from Tom's potion's stores, and watched the glittering liquid swirl around the vial before she drank the contents. She felt warmth immediately flow through her, and contentment settle into her gut. She closed her eyes for a moment, and reveled in the feeling of lightness that she hadn't felt in days, and gathered her documents before heading away from the manor towards the apparition point.

She arrived at the Ministry, into the court chamber just as the Wizengamot was filing in to take their seats. Many people had come to watch the trial, and she could sense the looks of shock, and in some cases, open hostility that she was receiving for being Tom's public defender. She did her best to ignore it, but it became difficult when Tom was forcefully dragged into the room by two aurors and placed into an iron cage that stood in the center of the room, as the crowd hurled angry insults at him. Hermione's heart clenched when he met her eyes. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days; there were dark circles beneath his eyes, and dark stubble on his jaw indicating that he probably hadn't been allowed to bathe. She kept her eyes locked on his, willing him to see that she hadn't given up.

Kingsley stood from his central position amongst the Wizengamot as Minister of Magic, and announced, "The Wizengamot now calls the Trial of Tom Marvolo Riddle to Order. Auror Dawlish, would you like to say a few words?"

"Of Course" Dawlish acknowledged politely, and stood to face the crowd.

"The man who stands before you today, is Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as ' _He who shall not be named_ ', or more specifically, Lord Voldemort." Dawlish began, sparking a reaction from the crowd, "This man…this… _monster,_  has killed many in his quest for power, causing oppression and suffering, the likes of which have not been seen since Grindelwald. He has tortured and killed without provocation. It is my duty as Head of the Auror department, and my honor, to bring justice to his victims. It is my opinion that this man cannot be rehabilitated, and my recommendation that he receive the most severe punishment under our law; the Dementor's kiss." Dawlish finished looking around the room, until his eyes met The Minister's.

The Minister once again stood and looked down at his notes before addressing the court once again, "Miss Granger, would you like to make any formal statements before we proceed?"

"Yes, thank you, Minister." Hermione stood and turned to face the crowd, "I Know many of you here today are wondering why I am standing here in defense of a man who has openly, and purposely persecuted muggleborns such as myself." Hermione began, seeing many heads in the crowd nodding at her words, "The reason that I am here is simply because the man you see before you now, is  _not_  Lord Voldemort." Hermione stated, and many audible gasps could be heard as Kingsley banged his gavel to restore order.

"Silence!" Kingsley shouted using the sonorous charm, until the crowd settled back down.

"It is my intent to prove to you all today that Lord Voldemort is dead, and that the man that stands before you, is innocent of the crimes of which he stands accused." Hermione finished, once again meeting Tom's eyes with a determined look.

"Auror Dawlish, please call your first witness." Kingsley ordered.

"The prosecution calls Harry Potter to the floor." Dawlish said, once again as the crowd began to murmur. Harry entered the chamber through the back entrance, and as he passed by, he shot Hermione a sympathetic look. Once he was seated, Auror Dawlish approached to begin his questioning.

"Mister Potter. You have been a direct target of Lord Voldemort for many years. Not only has he attempted to end your life on numerous occasions, he also murdered your parents. Is this correct?" Dawlish asked.

"Yes." Harry answered making an effort to not look at Hermione or Tom.

"And Mister Potter, is the man responsible for those crimes in this court room right now?" Dawlish asked with a smug look on his face.

Harry didn't answer right away, and his eyes glanced over at Hermione.

"Answer the question, Mister Potter, is Lord Voldemort present in this courtroom?" Dawlish asked again.

"No." Harry answered, and the crowd gasped in shock.

"Order! Order I say!" Kingsley shouted as he banged his gavel.

"Mister Potter, are you saying that the man responsible for murdering your parents is not Tom Marvolo Riddle?" Dawlish asked in surprise. Clearly he wasn't anticipating Harry's answer.

"Lord Voldemort murdered my parents. The Tom Riddle that stands here today did not." Harry answered.

"No further questions." Dawlish said returning to his seat.

"Miss Granger, would you like to question the witness?" Kingsley asked.

"Yes, Minister." Hermione said as she stood and walked over to Harry, giving him a small smile as she approached.

"Mister Potter,  _Harry_ …" she said as he lips twitched at the corner. "Do you believe that Lord Voldemort is dead?" Hermione asked when she was interrupted by Dawlish

"I object, Minister, the witness's opinion cannot be taken as fact."

"If I may, Minister, my line of questioning will present proof if I am allowed to continue." Hermione answered looking calmly towards Kingsley.

"You may proceed." Kingsley stated.

"Answer the question, Harry, Do you believe that Lord Voldemort is dead?" she asked him again.

Harry's eyes met Tom's briefly, and then he looked directly at the crowd, "Yes."

"Can you please tell the Wizengamot, in your own words, what you witnessed the night of the battle at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.

Harry took a deep breath, "During the final confrontation in the forbidden forest, Voldemort and I were intensely dueling when we heard Bellatrix shout, ' _you're going to die, Mudblood_!' and we both looked towards her. Bellatrix threw a dagger at Hermione who had shown up in the clearing, and without hesitation, Lord Voldemort threw himself in front of her, and was struck by Bellatrix's dagger. Bellatrix howled in rage, and the last thing I remember was a jet of green light speeding towards me from her wand."

Hermione nodded, "You were very lucky to have survived…again…" a few chuckles could be heard from the crowd at Hermione's words.

"Isn't it also true that Lord Voldemort had created horcruxes which had sustained his life these many years?" Hermione asked, continuing her line of questioning.

"Yes, Albus Dumbledore discovered that he had intended to create six horcruxes in addition to the piece of his soul that would remain in his living body."

"And can you explain to the Wizengamot what a horcrux is?"

"A horcrux is an object that one can use to preserve a piece of their soul. It is very dark magic."

"And how is this achieved?" Hermione asked

Harry cleared his throat feeling decidedly uncomfortable, "Murder splits the soul. A horcrux can then be made during a dark ritual when the torn soul fragment is transferred into the object."

"Objection, Minister, What does this line of questioning have to do with the defendant's case?" Dawlish asked placing his hands on the table angrily.

"Miss Granger, if you have a point, I suggest you get to it quickly." Kingsley said in a tone of warning.

"Of course, Minister." Hermione said looking back towards Harry, "Harry, can you please tell the Wizengamot what objects Lord Voldemort used to store the six torn fragments of his soul?" Hermione asked.

"Seven." Harry corrected.

Hermione nodded, "Can you clarify that statement?" She asked

Harry nodded, once again looking around the room, "Lord Voldemort intended to tear his soul into seven pieces. Six of those pieces were to be made into Horcruxes, the seventh would reside within his living body. However, there was a seventh horcrux that Lord Voldemort never intended to make, resulting in eight soul fragments." Harry explained, "The diary, The Gaunt family ring, Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's diadem, Lord Voldemort's own snake, Nagini…" Harry said as his eyes swept over the room, "…and Me."

Another gasp went through the crowd at Harry's revelation. For years, everyone wondered how it was that a baby could survive the killing curse. Many speculated that it was purely due to the love from Lily Potter's sacrifice, but Harry finally revealed the truth; he survived because he was accidentally made into a Horcrux after Lord Voldemort murdered Lily Potter.

"And what are the state of Lord Voldemort's horcruxes today?" Hermione asked.

"Destroyed." Harry answered.

"How can you be sure?" Hermione asked giving him a small smile.

"Because I destroyed them myself."

"But if it's true that you are a Horcrux, and you are sitting here with us now, how can we be sure that Lord Voldemort cannot use the horcrux within you to return?" Hermione asked.

"Because it is gone. The night of the final battle, Bellatrix hit me with the Killing curse. Once again, I survived it. It was the horcrux within me that was destroyed that night."

"And how can you be sure?" Hermione asked, and Harry knew exactly what she wanted him to do.

Harry stood, and turned to face the Wizengamot, and lifted the hair from his forehead, "Because I no longer bear his mark."

"No further questions." Hermione said giving Harry a grateful smile before returning to her seat.

The crowd was talking loudly now, and camera bulbs were flashing as Harry stood and made his way out of the chamber.

"Order!" Kingsley bellowed, once again banging the gavel on the desk, "Miss Granger, You may call your first witness."

"I call Bellatrix LeStrange." Hermione said loudly as another shocked gasp could be heard from the crowd. Moments later, Bellatrix was dragged into the chamber and placed into another cage similar to the one holding Tom, and she snarled when her eyes fell on Hermione.

"Mrs. LeStrange…" Hermione said as she stepped towards the cage holding Bellatrix when Bellatrix spat on her, "You  _dare_  address me, Mudblood?" Bellatrix snarled lunging towards her through the bars.

Hermione ignored her outburst and continued, "Can you tell the Wizengamot what happened on the night of the battle at Hogwart's in your own words, please?"

"It's your fault!" Bellatrix shrieked, "He's dead because of you, you filthy mudblood! At least I had the satisfaction of watching Potter get hit with my killing curse before I was sent back to Azkaban!" she snarled.

"Is Lord Voldemort here in this chamber with us now?" Hermione asked.

"The Dark Lord is dead!" Bellatrix raged.

"Is this man not Lord Voldemort?" Hermione indicated over to the cage where Tom stood silently watching.

Bellatrix curled her lip, and narrowed her eyes as her gaze swept over Tom, "I've never seen him before, looks like another pathetic mudblood to me." She snapped venomously.

"No further questions." Hermione stated and returned to her seat.

"Auror Dawlish, would you like to cross-examine the witness?" the Minister asked.

Dawlish scoffed, "Bellatrix LeStrange is insane, her testimony should be stricken from the record."

"Granted." The minister stated, and Hermione grimaced until an idea came to her, and she hastily scribbled a note on a piece of parchment, and handed it to one of the aurors with a nod of thanks.

After Bellatrix was hauled back out of the chamber, the Minister stood once again, "Auror Dawlish, you may call your second witness."

"I call Horace Slughorn" Dawlish answered looking over at Hermione with a smug grin.

Hermione sucked in a breath, and her eyes met Tom's nervously.

The Professor made his way nervously to the front of the room, glancing at Tom as if he was looking at a ghost.

"Professor Slughorn. Tom Marvolo Riddle was a student of yours at one time, was he not?" Dawlish asked the portly man.

"Y…yes." Slughorn stammered, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else but there.

"As I understand it, Mister Riddle was one of your favorite students, and a member of the Slug Club, at one time, correct?" Dawlish said, and Hermione could see that her Professor was beginning to sweat.

"I tried not to show favoritism, but Mister Riddle was a very bright student indeed." Slughorn answered glancing at Tom nervously out of the corner of his eye.

"And can you please tell the Wizengamot, in your own words, what it was that Tom Riddle asked you about one evening after a slug club meeting?"

Slughorn briefly closed his eyes, in shame. This was the one regret that he had when it came to his interactions with his students.

"He asked me about horcruxes." Slughorn answered looking down at his folded hands.

A murmur went through the crowd as Dawlish continued, "And what did you tell him?"

Horace Slughorn looked pained, "You must understand, I never would have told him if I had any idea what would come of such an informal discussion." Slughorn pleaded.

"Answer the question, Professor." Dawlish said coldly.

"I told him. I told him what a horcrux was, and what one must do to split the soul." Slughorn admitted.

"And what did he ask you then?" Dawlish continued.

Slughorn visibly trembled at the memory, "He asked me, if you could only split the soul once, or for instance if one could do it  _seven times_."

Gasps rose once again from the crowd, and Hermione covered her mouth with her hand.  _Please hurry, Harry_ , she thought to herself.

"Order!" Kingsley bellowed once again.

"No further questions, Minister." Dawlish said as he grinned smugly at Tom.

"Miss Granger, would you like an opportunity to cross examine the witness?"

"Yes, Minister." Hermione rose, approaching her potion's professor with a kind expression.

"Professor Slughorn, In your opinion, did you ever believe that the Tom Riddle you knew would have been capable of the crimes of which he stands accused?" Hermione asked.

"Objection, the witness's opinion has no bearing on this case." Dawlish interrupted.

"Miss Granger?" Kingsley asked

"I am merely establishing the Professor as not only a character witness, but also would like to get the Professor's expert testimony on Horcruxes, Minister." Hermione answered.

"You may proceed."

"Answer the question, Professor. Do you believe that the student you knew would be capable of the crimes in which he stands accused?" Hermione repeated.

"No, of course not. I never would have told him about horcruxes if I believed he actually would have gone ahead with it." Slughorn explained.

Hermione nodded, "And to your knowledge, has there ever been a ritual or potion created to reverse the process of making a horcrux?" Hermione asked.

"Not to my knowledge, no. Splitting one's soul causes irreversible damage that can never be undone." Slughorn answered confidently.

"If that were true, Professor, then can you explain how Lord Voldemort was able to return to the seventeen your old body of Tom Riddle?" Hermione asked, and a hushed silence fell over the room.

The professor gaped at her like a fish for a moment, "I can't, Miss Granger." He finally answered.

"No further questions, thank you, Professor." Hermione said as she turned to take her seat. She let out a relieved breath when she saw Harry had come back, and was standing towards the book of the chamber, and she gestured for him to approach her. When he reached her, he spoke in low tones.

"I came back as quickly as I could when I got your note. I hope you know what you're doing." He said as he dropped the small black square stone in her hand.

"I'm not sure I do, but Felix does." She said quietly giving him a wink.

Harry bit back a smirk and walked away taking a seat towards the back of the room.

Just then Kingsley stood from his seat, "Miss Granger, would you like to call your second witness?"

Hermione cleared her throat, "Yes, Minister. I call Pandora Emmeline Lovegood."

A murmur went through the crowd, and her eyes met Tom's as he looked at her in confusion.

"Miss Granger, this is highly irregular. The Wizengamot is aware that Mrs. Lovegood is no longer among the living."

Hermione stood, "I realize that, Minister, however, there is a precedent in place that allows portraits to testify, in the event that someone has passed on, I see no difference in this case."

"Unless you have a portrait of Mrs. Lovegood, then I'm sorry to say-" the Minister began before Hermione interrupted.

"I don't have a portrait, but I do have the resurrection stone." Hermione answered defiantly, and she saw Tom's eyes widen in surprise.

"Order! If we cannot have order, I'll have no choice but to throw you all out!" Kingsley bellowed.

Finally, after the crowd settled back down, Kingsley gestured for Hermione to continue.

She took a deep breath and turned the resurrection stone over in her hand three times, and a gasp was heard when a beautiful woman, with long copper curls materialized before Hermione. Her eyes met hers, and then she turned until her gaze fell on Tom. Hermione could see the sadness in her eyes as she looked upon his bedraggled state as he stood locked inside of a cage like an animal.

"Tom…" She whispered

"Hello Pandora." He said gripping the bars in front of him, as she turned then to face Hermione once more.

"Why have you called upon me?" Pandora asked her curiously.

"Pandora, my name is Hermione Granger. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

Pandora's eyes swept the room more fully now, and she realized that she was in a trial chamber.

"You may." She finally spoke, and Hermione let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"I wanted to ask you about your research on soul restoration. Can you tell the Wizengamot why you chose to pursue it, the theory behind your work, and what you discovered?"

"Of course. I attended Hogwarts with Tom Riddle, many years ago." And here, she looked towards Tom sadly; "We were in separate houses then, he in Slytherin, and myself a Ravenclaw. He was brilliant though, and had the ability to succeed at whatever he chose to do. We were quite close at one time, until one day something changed. It was in our sixth year, when another student, a muggleborn, was found dead in a second floor lavatory. I could sense something was different about him; something dark. It was then that I accidentally discovered the diary, and recognized it immediately for what it was; a horcrux. I confronted him about it, and begged him to let me help him. He was different, after that; he became cold and cruel. I knew I needed to find a way to reverse the damage he had done to his soul." Pandora said sadly looking at Tom.

"According to Professor Slughorn, it is impossible to restore a split soul." Hermione stated.

"Not impossible. Difficult, yes, but not impossible." Pandora said as another low murmur rose through the crowd.

"How so?" Hermione asked.

"The theory is based in healing; the same way you would heal any other part of the body, only the potion needs to be much more potent. Also, there are conditions which must be met in order for the soul to restore itself." Pandora explained.

"What conditions?" Hermione asked

"In order for the process to work, the subject must feel remorse for what they have done. Also, they must open themselves up to receiving love and forgiveness."

"I read your journal detailing your work, which I have submitted to the Wizengamot as evidence exhibit A; In your final entry, you mention a breakthrough, can you tell us what that breakthrough was?"

Pandora gave Hermione a sad smile and glanced once again at Tom, "I had thought that my love for Tom would have been enough for the ritual to be successful; it wasn't. He did not return my feelings, and in turn, the spell rebounded and took my life instead."

"Your sacrifice was not in vain, Pandora." Hermione said giving her a grateful look.

"What do you mean?" Pandora asked as she looked at Hermione in confusion.

"I mean that I have successfully restored Tom's soul using your work as the basis of my research."

More shocked gasps went through the crowd.

"I have no further questions, Minister."

"Order!" Kingsley banged the gavel once again, "Auror Dawlish, would you care to question the witness?"

"No questions, Minister." Dawlish declined.

"Very well, you may call your third witness." Kingsley stated.

"I call Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." Dawlish said giving a smug smile to Hermione.

Two aurors came forward then, carrying the large portrait of Albus Dumbledore that usually hung in the Headmaster's office at Hogwart's. They propped the portrait up on a chair in the center of the room.

"Albus Dumbledore, could you tell the Wizengamot about your very first meeting with Tom Riddle?" Dawlish asked.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, and ran his fingers over his long beard within the canvas as his eyes carefully regarded the man who stood before him in the cage.

"I visited Tom a long ago, in Wool's Orphanage, when he was a mere boy of eleven. He was very powerful, even then; albeit a bit misguided."

"I see, and during the years you had him under your tutelage, did you ever suspect him to be involved in the death of the muggleborn student, Myrtle Warren?" Dawlish asked.

"Oh yes. I was certain he was the culprit, though I couldn't prove it until it was much too late." Dumbledore said.

"What proof did you uncover?" Dawlish asked

"Lord Voldemort's first horcrux was Tom Riddle's diary. It was made after Myrtle was killed, though it was not discovered until the year 1992, when it had found its way into the hands of young Ginevra Weasley, who had become possessed by it. It was subsequently destroyed by Harry Potter inside the Chamber of Secrets with the tooth of a Basilisk." Dumbledore explained.

"Is there any chance that Tom Riddle had simply lost his diary, and that Lord Voldemort framed Tom Riddle by creating a horcrux from it?" Dawlish asked, looking over at the crowd.

"No. Tom Riddle's memory was preserved inside of the diary, and according to Miss Weasley, it was Tom Riddle himself who had possessed her." Dumbledore stated.

"One last question, Albus. Could you tell me if the Tom Riddle you once had as a student is in this chamber right now?"

Dumbledore looked again at the crowd, and without hesitation replied, "No, he is not."

Another collective gasp rose from the crowd, and Hermione's eyes rose sharply to meet those of her former headmaster.

Dawlish turned back to Dumbledore's portrait in confusion, clearly not expecting his answer, "No?"

"No, Mister Dawlish. The man who stands locked in that cage is not the same Tom Riddle I knew." Albus Dumbledore clarified.

"How so?" Dawlish asked in surprise.

"The man you see before you now, has a conscience. He has a pure soul, one not torn by the act of murder. The Tom Riddle I knew had no conscience, and felt no remorse for his terrible deeds." Dumbledore answered.

"No further questions." Dawlish said in disappointment as he took his seat.

"Miss Granger? Would you like to question the witness?"

"No questions at this time." Hermione answered giving her former headmaster a grateful smile.

"Very well. You may call your final witness." The Minister said.

"I call Tom Marvolo Riddle." Hermione said confidently.

Tom's eyes widened as he realized Hermione was asking him to testify on his own behalf.

She approached him, giving him an encouraging smile, "Tom Riddle, do you believe that you are Lord Voldemort?" Hermione asked him.

"Objection, the defense is leading the witness." Dawlish interjected.

"Please rephrase the question, Miss Granger." Kingsley said as he signaled her to continue.

"Tom Riddle, do you believe that Lord Voldemort was killed during the battle of Hogwarts?"

Tom cleared his throat; his voice was raspy from disuse, "Yes."

"Can you explain how you have come to believe this?" Hermione asked.

"Because I remember the duel between Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter in the Forbidden forest that night. I remember Bellatrix throwing the dagger at you, and I remember that Lord Voldemort was hit with the dagger in your stead. I remember Lord Voldemort taking his final breath, and I remember waking up in this body where he had once been."

Gasps rose from the crowd, and Kingsley banged the gavel to bring the room back to order.

"How is it possible that you emerged from Lord Voldemort's death?" Hermione asked.

"Lord Voldemort drank an experimental potion, and completed the ritual to restore his soul, based on the research conducted by Pandora Lovegood, and yourself." Tom answered.

"And can you once again remind the Wizengamot what the conditions for the rituals success were as stated by Pandora Lovegood?" Hermione asked.

"Lord Voldemort needed to feel true remorse for his actions, and he needed to open himself up to love and forgiveness."

Hermione nodded, "So the only explanation for your existence, is that Lord Voldemort successfully completed the ritual, and met all necessary conditions, thereby restoring his soul prior to his death." Hermione concluded.

Tom nodded, "yes."

"No further questions, Minister." Hermione said smiling at Tom as she took her seat once more.

"Auror Dawlish, he's your witness." Kingsley stated

Dawlish rose and approached Tom with a look of poorly concealed loathing.

"Mister Riddle, Lord Voldemort's opinions of Muggles and Muggleborns are well documented by the Ministry. Do you expect this Wizengamot to believe that Lord Voldemort knowingly, and willingly would have given his own life for Miss Granger, a muggleborn witch, knowing he was once again mortal?" Dawlish asked incredulously.

"Whether you believe it or not, he did. Harry potter has already corroborated this fact in his testimony." Tom answered glancing at Hermione, who gave him a small nod of encouragement.

Dawlish grimaced, "Since you seem to possess Lord Voldemort's memories, perhaps you can enlighten us as to why he would have done such a thing?" Dawlish asked incredulously.

"Because he fell in love with Hermione Granger." Tom said looking directly into Hermione's eyes as gasps of shock rose form the crowd. It took a few bangs of Kingsley's gavel before order was restored.

"No further questions, Minister." Dawlish said rubbing his hand over his face as he took his seat.

"Very well, are there any more witnesses to be called?"

Dawlish and Hermione both stood and answered simultaneously, "No, Minister."

"Then you may make your closing arguments. Auror Dawlish, if you would?" Kingsley gestured for him to continue.

"My fellow wizards and witches of the Wizengamot. You have seen and heard testimony from several witnesses today. The fact is, this is the man who went on to become Lord Voldemort. I ask you, if you would truly ever feel safe in a world, where he is free to rise again. I ask for justice for his victims, by requesting that you return a Guilty verdict, so that this court may sentence him appropriately. Thank you." Dawlish said taking his seat.

"Miss Granger?" Kingsley prompted.

Hermione stood taking a deep breath, once again drawing comfort from the felix felicis she had consumed prior to the trial, "Honorable members of the Wizengamot, as Auror Dawlish has just reminded you, you have heard testimony from several key witnesses today, not the least of which is Harry Potter himself. The same Harry Potter whose parents were murdered by Lord Voldemort and bound him to a prophecy that stated, ' _Neither can live while the other survives_.'. That prophecy was fulfilled the night of the battle at Hogwarts when Voldemort's horcruxes were destroyed, including the one that resided within Harry himself. It was fulfilled, when Harry survived a killing curse, once again, while the Dark Lord's heart ceased to beat. The proof is in the Absence of Harry Potter's infamous scar. The man that stands accused today, a mere boy of seventeen, is not Lord Voldemort. Ask yourselves if it is right to condemn a man to death for crimes that he did not commit. I stand before you today, a victim of Lord Voldemort's persecution, and humbly ask that you do what is right, and find Tom Riddle innocent of all charges. Thank you." Hermione said as she took her seat, meeting Tom's eyes once more.

Kingsley once again stood and placed his wand to his throat, using the sonorous charm, "The Wizengamot will now render it's verdict. Those in favor of Conviction?"

Hermione looked around nervously, her heart beating fast as she saw a several members of the Wizengamot raise their hands silently.

"Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?" Kingsley asked.

Hermione held her breath. To her surprise, two thirds of the Wizengamot raised their hands, and she sobbed in relief when Kingsley announced, "Cleared of all Charges" and banged the gavel in finality.

As two Aurors strode forward and opened the cage releasing Tom, she ran towards him and propelled herself into his arms.

"I told you I wouldn't give up." She whispered in his ear as he held her tightly.

Camera bulbs flashed all around them, trying desperately to get a statement from Tom, and Harry quickly came to their aid and tried to push the reporters back. Rita Skeeter managed to push past him before he could stop her.

"Miss Granger, is it true that you were having an illicit affair with the Dark Lord?" Rita asked, her quick quotes quill hovering in the air beside her poised to record her statement.

Hermione froze, and turned away from Tom towards Rita Skeeter, and slapped her as hard as she could across the face, "You are a  _vile_  woman. If you ever mention my name in any articles of yours again, I'll have you arrested." Hermione spat venomously.

Rita quickly moved her hand to her cheek where Hermione had slapped her, and quickly recovered herself, "On what grounds?" Rita shot back.

"There is the little matter of unregistered Animagii being illegal." Hermione said with a smirk, watching Rita gape like a fish, and turn abruptly on her heel and storm away.

Harry stifled a grin as Hermione turned back to Tom and said, "Let's go home."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! This is it! The last chapter! FINALLY! LOL. I hope you all enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! I don't plan on writing an epilogue for this, since I am pretty happy with ending it this way, but Please leave me a review and let me know what you think! xoxo

When their feet landed on the soft grass at the edge of Tom's vineyard estate, his legs gave out from under him and he fell to his knees. Hermione worriedly knelt beside him, and his cheeks burned in embarrassment as he looked away; he _detested_ appearing weak, especially in front of her.

"Tom, you've barely eaten in a week, let's get you inside and I'll have Satine bring you some food. You'll need rest if you're going to get your strength back." Hermione said bossily, not overly concerned about soothing his wounded pride.

The corner of his lips twitched at her bossy tone, reminding him of the time she had argued with him about healing his leg after they had been attacked by Acromantulas in the forest surrounding his property. Without a word, he allowed her to help him back to his feet, and slip an arm around his waist for support as they made their way from the apparition point to the chateau. She led him to his bedroom, and helped him to the bathroom where she ran a hot bath for him.

"I'll have food prepared for you while you bathe. After you eat, you're to go straight to bed." She said in a tone that told him she meant business.

He raised an eyebrow at her in amusement and the corner of his lips curved up into a smirk, "And what if I'm not tired?" He asked cheekily.

She huffed, "Tom Marvolo Riddle, don't make me hex you." Hermione smirked, and planted her hands on her hips.

He scoffed, as he unbuttoned the filthy striped prison garments he'd been forced to wear, and her eyes widened as they fell on his lean alabaster chest that was now marred by an inky black prison tattoo.

His eyes darted down to his chest self-consciously before they flicked back up to meet her gaze. She took the few steps to close the distance between them and gently ran her fingers over the black markings and he shivered. She looked up at him, seeing the unreadable look on his face, and smirked.

"You know, I've always thought tattoos were rather _sexy_ …"

He felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss, "I'm glad you approve."

Not wanting to get carried away while he clearly needed rest, she pulled herself away and nudged him towards the bath.

"Meet me on the terrace when you're finished, I'll have lunch waiting." She said as she smiled at him before leaving him to bathe.

He sunk into the blissfully hot water, and felt his entire body relax. Azkaban had been worse than anything he could have prepared himself for. He had never had to concern himself before with dementors, since having a fractured soul made him immune to their particular brand of torture, but now that his soul was intact, he understood why other wizards feared them so much. A shiver ran down his spine as he recalled all the horrors the dementors had forced him to relive as they floated by his tiny cell. If he were a lesser wizard, he probably would have gone mad from the constant exposure. He forced those thoughts away as his mind drifted back to Hermione. She had stayed true to her word, and despite everything his former self had put her through, she _saved_ him; not only from spending the rest of his life in Azkaban, but she quite literally saved his soul. With that thought, he knew he would never let her go.

~~{0}~~

She turned when he stepped out onto the terrace, once again clean shaven and dressed smartly in black trousers and a button down white oxford rolled to the elbows. Aside from the dark circles that still remained beneath his eyes, and his too thin frame, he looked much more like himself. He sat across from her, and they ate the meal Satine had prepared in silence, neither one of them willing to shatter the tranquility that the atmosphere provided. She had been curious about Azkaban, but she didn't think he'd wish to discuss it so soon after his release.

"I've received a letter from the Ministry while you were freshening up; your assets are no longer frozen, since you have been released. Since it is quite a _unique_ situation, they are considering you to be Voldemort's 'Next of kin' and as such, you are entitled to his holdings." She handed him a small key as she continued, "They only ask that you allow an Auror to accompany you to Gringotts the first time you access the vault so that any objects of concern may be seized." She said carefully watching his expression.

He nodded thoughtfully. Truthfully, there was nothing of concern in his vault, only a surplus of Galleons; He'd stored all of his cursed artifacts and horcruxes in the vaults of his most trusted Death Eaters, who were now all either dead or imprisoned anyway.

"That will be acceptable." He answered pocketing the key and leaning back in his chair to examine her.

"What will you do?" he asked, giving her a penetrating look. Now that he was free, and the war was over, there was nothing forcing her to stay.

"I'm not sure. I'd like to finish school and sit my N.E.W.T.S, then I suppose either consider a career with the Ministry, or attend University." She answered honestly.

He nodded and added with a smirk, "Maybe you should consider becoming a healer. You have the disposition for it."

She smiled and tossed a grape at him from her plate knowing he was teasing her about her bossiness.

"Speaking of which, aren't you supposed to be sleeping?" she asked raising an eyebrow at him as she stood from her seat and gestured towards the door.

His lips twitched and he stood, pulling her towards him and sliding his arms around her waist, "I'll tell you what; I'll go lie down if you promise to join me."

She felt the blush rise to her cheeks as she bit her lip. It'd been almost two weeks since he'd made love to her, but she knew he really needed his rest.

"Fine. I'll join you, but we are _only_ sleeping."

He smirked, and pulled her towards his bedroom.

~~{0}~~

Over the passing weeks, Tom's strength returned, along with the weight he had lost from his imprisonment, mostly due to Hermione's constant badgering him to eat, and her insistence on their afternoon strolls through the vineyard. He loved the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about a subject she was truly interested in, and how her hand would periodically dart out to pluck a grape off of a vine and pop it in her mouth as they walked.

He had surprised her one morning when he informed her that he was going to Diagon Alley to meet with his solicitor, as well as to allow an Auror to meet him for his vault inspection. She had asked if he wanted her to accompany him, but he politely declined and dropped a kiss on her forehead before sweeping out of the terrace. Her initial reaction to this news, though she knew better than to show it, was concern. She was worried about what he was doing, and why he was being so secretive. She had casually asked him what he was meeting his solicitor for, but, in typical Tom fashion, he gave her a vague non-answer, and simply left. She considered following him, but talked herself out of it a moment later, convincing herself that she had to start trusting him. He may have once been Lord Voldermort, but he was _Tom Riddle_ now. If there was ever to be any hope for a real relationship between them, she had to give him a chance to prove to her that he could be trusted.

So, as she watched him walk to the apparition point from her seat on the terrace, she took a deep breath and continued to sip her tea.

Several hours later, she was pacing near the apparition point, wondering what he could possibly be doing that would have taken so long, and she was just about to apparate to Diagon alley when she felt the air shimmer and he appeared in front of her.

"Going somewhere?" he asked playfully as he pulled her into his arms for a kiss, chuckling at the annoyed expression on her face.

"Where the bloody hell, have you been? I was worried sick! What if something had _happened_ to you?!" she screeched in a way that was eerily similar to Molly Weasley.

He chuckled again, which only inflamed her temper, "I'm quite certain I can take care of myself, Hermione, but I thank you for your concern."

"What took you so long then?" she snapped at him, knowing she was over-reacting, but she simply couldn't help it.

"I'll tell you what; why don't you go inside and take a hot bath, then join me for dinner in the ballroom when you're finished, and I'll tell you." He smirked, brushing a stray curl behind her ear.

"You're such a…a… _Slytherin_." She huffed in annoyance, allowing a small smile to grace her lips.

Tom laughed loudly, "Yes, well, that goes without saying." He said as he led her back to the chateau.

He'd left her at their bedroom door, with a kiss that she felt all the way to her toes, leaving her slightly breathless. He was in a decidedly good mood, which admittedly also made her slightly suspicious. She slipped into the hot bath with a sigh, feeling all her worries slip away as she relaxed in the rose scented water. When she finally finished her bath and exited the bathroom, there was a long rectangular box tied with a silver bow sitting at the foot of the bed with a small card embossed with her name. She plucked the card from beneath the ribbon and opened it, knowing it had to be from Tom.

_Hermione,_

_Put this on and meet me in the Ball room._

_~Tom_

She smirked at the simple instructions, chuckling to herself that he still liked giving orders as she opened the box. She gasped in surprise as she admired the dress that lay inside. She pulled out the dark green satin gown, and found a pair of matching undergarments underneath it inside the box along with a pair of Black heels. She blushed wondering if he had gone to the store to pick the undergarments out himself. She pulled them on, and slipped into the dress, using her wand to magically lace up the back. The dress had a sweetheart neckline, and was formfitting from her bust down to mid-thigh, and from there it was all flowing sheer fabric in the same dark green as the rest. There were small black beaded crystals sewn into the bodice in an intricate pattern that had the overall effect of a snake coiling itself around her body. She charmed her hair into a sleek chignon and added a bit of color to her lips and smokiness to her eyes, remembering the usefulness of Narcissa's beauty charms. To complete the look, she stepped into the heels and slipped on the pearl necklace he had given to her as Lord Voldemort; to remind him that she had loved him, even then.

She made her way to the ballroom, her stomach fluttering with anticipation, and as she stepped through the doors, she had to remind herself to breath as he gave her a rare genuine smile. He was beautiful, his black hair swept back from his handsome face, his intense gaze focused solely on her. He wore elegant black dress robes that were perfectly tailored to his tall form, and he closed the distance between them, lifting her hand and dropping a kiss on the back of it making her melt a bit at his formality.

"You take my breath away." He whispered, as he brushed his lips over her cheek, and she felt her pulse begin to race at his gentle touch. No matter that he'd kissed her many times before, or that she'd already been intimate with him on more than one occasion, he still made her heart beat faster every time he touched her.

They sat and dined at the same table she had once shared with Lord Voldemort, but this time, there was no guilt, no restraint; He was simply Tom, and she was Hermione.

"So I do believe you were going to tell me what you've been up to all day? Aside from dress shopping, that is." She added with a chuckle.

Rather than answer, he pulled out an envelope with her name on it, and slid it across the table to her. She raised an eyebrow at him questioningly, and lifted the envelope and opened it. She gasped as she read it's contents.

_I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, being of sound mind, do hereby name my wife Hermione Jane Granger as my Benefactor…_

She looked up at him sharply, with wide eyes.

"Tom, this is…"

"My will, yes, I know." He said smiling, as if he was still privy to some great secret she had yet to uncover.

"But…it says ' _wife_ '…we're not married, Tom." She said looking at him in confusion.

He bit his lip thoughtfully, and stood, making his way around the table to stand in front of her. He pulled out a small black velvet box from his robe pocket and when he knelt down in front of her, she forgot to breathe.

"I was hoping that we could remedy that…" he said opening the box and holding it up to her.

"Hermione, I've made quite a lot of bad decisions in my life, but I promise that you'll _neve_ r be one of them. I want you by my side, and I want to do this _right_."

Hermione gasped when her eyes fell on the ring. There was a large pearl in the center and it was flanked with two half-carat diamonds on either side.

"Tom…this is…" she breathed, at a loss for words, the tears already making silent tracks down her cheeks

"Will you marry me, Hermione? I never want to be without you again." He said looking at up her with such need in his eyes, it made her heart constrict.

"Yes!" Hermione answered as he grasped her trembling hand in his and slipped the ring on her finger before pulling her up out of her seat and against his chest, capturing her lips with his.

The first notes of the Tango filled the room, and he pulled her into the familiar dance; this time, when she met his gaze, there were grey eyes flecked with blue and gold staring back at her, _not_ crimson.

_**~~Fin~~** _


End file.
